#get me OUT of that ocean so dark down below the waves bitch!!!

[omegawizardposting]

Tell me how to keep breathing while pretending I'm not drowning (sick with an upper respiratory infection)

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Part 106- Goodbye My Love

Summary: Narcisse's henchman is on the loose and Josie goes off the deep end...literally. Stephane reacts. Thranduil hears and sees something. Time to wake up. A frantic search takes place. Garrett is a hero. Legolas has harsh words. A treacherous journey begins as Josie goes down memory lane. Will her grief destroy her?

**Warning- attempted rape, violence, angst, language

Asher stood before you cracking his knuckles and grinding his teeth. His eyes were flooded in darkness.

"Now it's just you and me." he confidently sneered.

"What's the matter witch queen? No magic in the bedroom? I can certainly help you with that." Asher groped his cock as he moved towards you.

All you saw at that moment was the way Peter would look at you before he took what he wanted. You scurried across the bed and tried to run but Asher was too quick. He yanked you back by your hair and threw him self on top of you. You tried to scream but he swiftly smashed his hand over your mouth.

"Do you see this? This is what they did to me. All because of you..... and Narcisse will do far worse once we return to Dorwinion."

Both of his upper arms had multiple lacerations on them, most likely from a whip. "Do you have any idea how bad this stings?? Here...let me show you."

Your eyes widened in fear as your muffled screams leaked through his clammy fingers. He kept his hand over your mouth and slid between your legs, perching himself on his knees as he pulled his solid member out. You began smacking and punching his wounds as you kicked your legs vigorously, but it only seemed to turn him on. He was just too strong so you did the only thing you could think of that would surely stop him. You latched onto his cock and began squeezing and pulling as you dug your nails into his shaft, instantly drawing blood.

"You fucking cunt!!!" he screeched.

Stars were all you saw as a burning sting radiated over your face where he struck you with brutal force. You were temporarily deafened by an intense ringing in your ear.

"Get the fuck up! I think you need to cool off, you crazy bitch."

He drug you off the bed and up the stairs by your arms to the deck, then hoisted you up to where your legs dangled over the rail. All you could see was the infinite raging ocean as the enormous vessel thrashed against them in it's offshore anchored state.

You knew what was happening but you were so dazed by his crippling blow that you couldn't fight him.

"It would have been so much more enjoyable to fuck you and that is what you will now get....fucked."

The feeling of free falling delved through your core as his arms released you. You managed to cry a shrill scream before you plunged into the icy waves.

The gelid water was like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body as it stole your breath. The only thing you could do was scream for Thranduil in your mind and fight to swim up as the current drug you down. It wasn't called the black sea of death for nothing.

As Thranduil wandered the gardens in his astral state desperately searching for a way out, he heard your blood curdling scream.

"Josephine..." he frantically whispered and swiftly turned to see a single open door standing in the middle of the garden. The view behind it was dark and sinister but it's where your voice came from and he abruptly raced through it without hesitation.

Gasping for air and choking out your name, Thranduil's eyes opened to see the ominous Jareth hovering over him as he laid in an unfamiliar chamber with his wrists shackled to the bed.

Legolas was stunned as he heard your scream and he, Haldir and Julian came sprinting from the steer where they had been toasting Thranduil with a bottle of Narcisse's infamous wine.

Narcisse had just come up from below deck in a rage after realizing Asher had escaped and then witnessed you plunge into the monstrous mosh pit. Stephane raced down the deck at full speed and launched into a nose dive over the rail.

Legolas chucked his weapons to the floor and leaped into the ice bath as did Haldir while Julian head locked a fleeing Asher until he passed out. The piercing chill of the water didn't bother the elves at all as they swiftly descended beneath it's surface.

Other warlock guard came and reprimanded the snoozing warlock while Julian flew off and hovered over the roaring waves waiting for you all to emerge.

Legolas was having a flashback of when Garrett had dropped you in the ocean and he, Thranduil and Haldir had frantically searched for you with no luck. That rare panic coursed through him again as his ballooning blue eyes darted about through the darkened depths of the Rhun. The storm Aragorn warned about was nearing, causing quite a swimming struggle against the current. As herculean and resilient that Narcisse was, the current was acutely fierce and steadfast, proving too much for the warlock to continue. The same went for the two strappingly fit elves. Nothing more could be done as the sea of death appeared to have claimed another victim and all three men were forced to surface without you.

Asher was now conscious and detained by Narcisse's guard. Stephane power walked in a rage towards the wicked one as soon as he stepped foot on the craft and sucker punched him square in the throat. Through his teeth, he spoke in a menacing manner.

"You will suffer a fate far worse than death, for death is too kind for what you have done. Murdering a young woman and her unborn child. There is a special place in hell for monsters like you, and that hell is my wrath." Narcisse snarled as he watched his now ex-assistant deputy violently gasp for air. He then turned to the guardsmen.

"Take him away and complete the simple task of properly securing him without being so fucking incompetent this time! Her death is also upon all of you and for that, you shall answer as well..."

Stephane continued on his rampage. "And where the hell were you Prince, you were to be guarding her door!!"

"And your men were to have been guarding your corrupt captain! If this is the fault of anyone here, it is solely you for coming to the mountain in the first place and for bringing the wretched warlock who had been insistent on not interfering just as you had been!"

"Enough!!" Haldir roared. "I am going back in. I will not give up on her, as she would not on any of us. Jo is not dead! She is wearing the pendant." The determined Lorien elf propelled himself over the rail without a second thought.

Legolas' and Narcisse's eyes lit up with a glimpse of hope as they had forgotten about the gem around your neck. Julian was still casting about over the whipping waves calling out for you as Legolas joined Haldir in the savage sea.

Stephane distraughtly leaned on the rail and momentarily observed the elves. He then raced to search the waters on the other side of the boat and scour the shoreline.

Your body was now numb and your ability to rationalize was gone. Is this how Thranduil felt just before he died? you thought as you became still, staring out into the Tartarean space.

The caliginous abyss became bright and there was Thranduil reaching out to you with a hand full of shimmering white light as he gave you a full teeth smile.

"Josephine...come to me my sweet girl." His echoing voice was gentle and full of love, just like the day you first met him.

All the air you had left in you released as you spoke his name. You raised your hand but you were too weak to reach him. As your eyes began to flutter, his hand powered forward and clasped yours tightly. You suddenly felt your body ascending. To the afterlife with Thranduil, you were desperately hoping, but the next thing you knew, you were on the shoreline choking up water and gasping for air....and someone's hand was on your arm.

Once you caught your breath, you worriedly turned your head to see who had a hold of you.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He had come back for you. But you knew in your heart that he never even left.

"G...Garrett??" you stuttered through chattering teeth. You...you saved me....how did...."

"I have been up in the trees watching. You know I couldn't just leave you. I promised you I never would again and I meant it. Good thing too huh? I saw what that piece of shit did and I immediately dove in. The others were trying to find you but even their keen eyesight isn't as sharp as mine nor do they have my speed and strength to battle the current." He proudly grinned and then joked. "So...am I still your own personal superman like you once said?"

"Always..." You crawled to him and threw your arms around his neck. The stunned vamp carefully embraced your shivering body, then swiftly but gently pushed you back.

"I am too cold for you to be touching. Hold on..."

The irony of Garrett's powers amazed you. Fire was a vampire's worst threat, yet he was a fire sign and had carried that gift with him when he became immortal. Fire had become his best ally in a sense.

He extended his hands out and his palms glowed as if there were burning embers inside of them.

"Now....come to me."

You did as he commanded and he wrapped his arms snuggly around you. His heat radiated through you comfortably from head to toe in mere seconds causing you both to completely dry. Warmth never felt so good to you as it did in that moment. You then realized this was how he kept you sufficiently warm when he plucked you out of the forest and flew you to Lestat's fortress.

"You're like your own sun." you softly giggled as you planted your cold rosy cheek onto his firm chest. "You never cease to amaze me Garrett Lee. You saved my life and my daughter's. I told you the human side of you still exists."

"You give me too much credit. You bare the pendant. It would have saved you."

"Maybe so...but it would not have warmed me or brought me to safety and I also would have lost my memories....so the credit goes all to you. You stayed by my side even when Legolas made you feel like you should leave. Thank you Garrett...so much for everything you have done for me and Leann."

Garrett was speechless. He wasn't used to receiving praise and compliments so he did what he did best. Changed the subject.

"So what happened? How did that sleaze bag get his grimy paws on you? Did he hurt you? I swear I will rip him to shreds...."

"I had finally fell asleep and I awoke to him standing over me in my chamber. I don't know how he got loose. I tried to use my powers but I was too weak... And then all of a sudden, he was on top of me, covering my mouth. He...he was so strong Garrett. He...hit me and then tried...."

You began to cry. Garrett's lips pursed intensely and he made you look up at him as he held your face in his toasty hands. He gazed at the purple and blue bruise between your eye and ear. The vampire's orbs blazed red in fury as he laid his hand upon it and healed the contusion.

"I am going to kill him this time, if they have not already. You said he tried....Josephine...what did he do to you? Please....please fucking tell me he did not...."

'No...although it was his intentions to do so...he didn't get the chance. Let's just say he's lucky his disgusting cock is still attached after what I did to it. But it only infuriated him and that's when he hit me. After that, I couldn't focus to fight him and that's when he drug me up to the deck and threw me over."

"What the fuck! Where was everyone?? Why were you all alone?!"

"I asked Legolas to leave. He said he would stay outside my door...I don't know what happened. I didn't see him or anyone when Asher took me to the deck. Garrett, you gotta get me back to the boat...Please. They must be out of their minds with worry."

Legolas stood at the rail where you went over. His and Haldir's second efforts to locate you had failed. Narcisse was with Julian trying to console him, although he himself was hurting. The Dorwinion Lord had come to care for you against his better judgement.

Haldir was in a state of denial as he went to speak with an extremely distraught Legolas who did nothing but stare down at the water.

"Legolas...she has to be alright. The pendant will keep her alive. Narcisse wants to take the boat back to dock so we can search the shorelines."

The Prince held his blinkless gaze in front of him.

"It will not keep her warm. It will not give her refuge. It was all for nothing, coming to this cursed mountain. I promised to keep her safe and I failed her. I have failed and lost my father as well and now...." Legolas couldn't even say it. "Please leave me...I wish to be alone for the grief is too near."

Haldir left and stormed over to Narcisse.

"Why...why have you not ended the existence of your deputy?!"

"I assure you, he will be handled accordingly. Do not stand upon my ship and question me elf." Narcisse snapped and turned away. He may have disliked Haldir but he respected him for how much he cared for you. The disgruntled warlock swallowed his pride and faced the marchwarden.

"I apologize for my anger. You have made great sacrifices in her honor. Legolas as well. It is quite clear she is very loved. I will raise the anchor and head back to shore so we can search on foot...but we must sail soon as the storm is vastly approaching from the west and we will all perish on the sea if we do not get ahead of it. These waves at the moment are nothing compared to what lies ahead."

Stephane's words disheartened Haldir intensely.

"Then Legolas and I shall perish for we will not leave her behind. If we must weather the storm and orcs on land for the night, then that is what we shall do."

Narcisse felt terrible as he glanced at Haldir. He certainly did not want to leave you either. "You are right. Land it will be, for I will not abandon her."

Haldir offered a shocked nod as he was slightly taken aback from Narcisse's change of heart. The Silvan elf only ever knew the warlock to be selfish and conceited, certainly not selfless or apologetic.

"You have made great sacrifices for her as well, even for Legolas and it has not gone unnoticed by me."

Just as Narcisse went to respond, something caught his eye.

"Haldir!! Look...there...is that?!"

There you and Garrett were emerging out of the forest and jogging up to the shore.

Haldir's eyes bulged. "Lady of light." he mumbled with exhilaration and then abruptly darted off to find Legolas.

Narcisse formed an uncontrollable smile as he sprung his arm up and waved to you.

You smiled back and frantically waved.

Garrett looked at you with a smirk. "The word, little one?"

"The word!" you urgently replied. It was a code between the two of you for when you wanted Garrett to take you away. He had once told you that if you ever needed saving or needed to get away, just say the word. The night your mother's secret about her and Thranduil's past rendezvous came to light, you had said that exact phrase to Garrett who immediately had understood it and whisked you away to his abode on Devil's Island.

Stephane watched with anxious anticipation for your arrival. His mind spun with thoughts of why he even cared so much.

Garrett scooped you up and bolted off into the air. Within seconds, you were standing on the deck of Narcisse's boat looking him right in his ocean blue eyes.

Stephane exhaled a deep sigh of relief and pulled you into an unexpected hug, shocking you and the vampire.

"Thank god you are alright." he professed as he squeezed you tight.

You lightly patted his back and squeaked in discomfort. "Yes, I am fine except that I can't breathe."

Narcisse jerked away with an embarrassed smile. "Oh! Oh sorry, forgive me....I..I do not know what came over me."

You gazed at him in awkward perplexity. "Right..ok then. Well...just don't let it happen again."

Of course my lady." he retorted with a sheepish but happy smile.

And then you saw Haldir running towards you with a most serious expression. He didn't slow down as he approached you, snatching you from the ground against his damp body, swishing you around in circles.

"We thought the worst. All of us, we desperately foraged the sea. How...how did you..."

A clearing of the throat was heard from none other than a gloating Garrett.

"I was observing from afar and saw that ape toss her overboard so I swam to her and pulled her to shore about a mile down. The undertow had rapidly carried her away, that is why you could not locate her."

Haldir hesitated with his pride to thank the detested vampire, but he was so grateful you were alive and safe so he swallowed that big lump of disdain he felt towards Garrett and did the right thing. Haldir offered his enemy a bow and a half smile which floored you, and quite frankly Garrett too.

"I offer you my gratitude for your heroic act, but nothing more."

That was the best Garrett was going to get and you were ok with that because at least Haldir tried. You placed your hand on your best friend's cheek and mouthed a soft thank you as your eyes smiled at him.

"I as well thank you for saving my daughter."

You turned to see your sweet father's worried face and you were instantly no longer angry with him.

"Daddy...." you sadly frowned and fell into his open arms. "I am so sorry daddy. You will always be my father. I love you so much. Always and forever, no matter what."

Julian's radiant blues filled with elated tears at your words as he cradled you in his arms. "As you are my daughter, mine and mine alone. How I love thee my child."

You pulled back as you sniffled and peered all around. "Where is Legolas?"

"He is up at the bow. I went to tell him about you but then Garrett had brought you here. I had to come see you first. Legolas...is not doing so well. None of us were as we believed we had lost you. He blames himself." Haldir explained.

"I..I must go to him."

You ran off to find the sorrowful prince. The others followed but kept a good distance to give you and Legolas some privacy.

As you came up behind him, you didn't even have to speak. Legolas sensed you and turned around in disbelief.

You smiled at him as tears flowed down your cheeks.

He slowly slid the straps to his gear off his shoulder and let it drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes as he took a step forward in shock. His eyes wide, his mouth open, the Prince then dashed to you and must have lifted you at least a foot off the ground as you both embraced each other, laughing and crying.

"Tell me it is real. That you are here and I am not dreaming. And if it is a dream, I do not want to wake." Legolas muttered into your neck.

You forced his weary head up and wiped his tears. "I am real." You took his hand and placed it under yours on your cheek. "See?"

Legolas smiled...and then noticed the others watching, including Garrett and he became unhinged.

"What is the wretched undead doing here?!"

"Legolas...stop. He saved me. He found me in the water and took me to safety and got me warm and dry, then brought me back here... to you."

Legolas appeared dumbfounded. "Warm? There is nothing even remotely warm of such a vile creature."

"You know...I have had about enough of your insults sprite. If not for me, who knows where Josephine would be right now. Even the good marchwarden here showed his appreciation for what I have done. Is it even possible that you could just be thankful instead of being a self righteous douchebag? This would not have even happened if you had been watching over her like you promised her you would!"

Haldir closed his eyes and lowered his head with a dreadful sigh as he awaited the heat he was about to receive from the disbelieving prince, but instead, Legolas ignored that comment and focused solely on the accusatory one.

"Garrett! This is not Legolas' fault! Look...I know everyone is reeling here...but what matters is that I am ok and we're all here together.....except for my....." You paused and had to contain yourself. "We need to heed Aragorn's warning of the oncoming storm and get out of here while we still can. I need to protect my daughter. I will not give birth to my child on a freezing desolate mountain being stalked by orcs or on a boat in the middle of the treacherous sea. Thranduil would not want this!"

"I could not agree more." Narcisse concluded.

"You know nothing of what my father would want Narcisse! And you....putrid vampire...do not talk to me of self righteousness. You who stand here demanding acknowledgement of something myself, Julian, Haldir and even Narcisse desperately tried to do." Legolas barked with justification.

"Why can't you answer the question Leggy? Where were you when Josephine was almost raped?!" Garrett fired back without thinking before speaking.

You gasped and gave him a shove. "Garrett!!"

"I'm sorry...but...he needs to know! They all do!"

"They do, but not like this! I would have liked to have told them myself..."

Stephane became unglued. "Is it true??!! Did Asher try to..." He halted as his lips clamped together as did his fists while he lowered his head trying to breathe.

"He...he tried, yes. But did not succeed. I handled him in quite a painful way and that's when he drug me up to the deck and dropped me over."

Legolas was appalled and disgusted...mostly with himself. "Josie...I...it....it is my fault. After I stood guard for sometime at your door, I assumed you had fallen asleep. All was quiet and I went to the back of the boat to join Haldir and Julian for a toast of wine to my father. I never could have imagined that Asher was free...."

"So you went to booze it up is what you are trying justify...You should have never left her alone!" Garrett snapped.

"If it is anyone's fault, it is mine! I am the one who called to Legolas." Haldir relayed in defense of his verbally attacked godson.

"Typical. The honorable Haldir taking the fall when no one forced Legolas to abandon his watch." Garrett sarcastically commented.

"That is what others do when they care about them, but you would not know of such a thing because no one cares for the likes of you." Haldir implied harshly to Garrett.

"I did not willingly leave my guard. But who are you to speak of defiling another when you willingly did so to Josie!" Legolas knew where to strike Garrett....right in the achilles heel and he succeeded perfectly in disabling the vampire.

The glare that Garrett cast to Legolas was murderous but also filled with shame, regret and guilt.

"Legolas!!! Stop!!! That is NOT what happened!" you cried.

"My father would disagree!!"

"But I do!! I do!!! Me!!.... Garrett, do not listen to...." You turned to see an empty space where Garrett had stood. He had taken off so fast, no one had noticed.

"Great!! That is just...fucking... great!" you shouted. "Narcisse...can we please go!!! Please...or I am going to lose what's left of my mind."

"Of course my lady." Stephane bowed and darted off.

The crew began raising the sails and releasing the anchor from the Rhun's dark depths. The waters had calmed temporarily and the last bit of daylight lingered but you knew that meant nothing good, for it was the eye of the storm. You had all waited too long and would eventually be blasted. You couldn't decipher what was worse...that...or riding it out on land only to be attacked by orcs and wargs....what was even worse though was leaving the place where you had last seen Thranduil. You had no choice....Leeanduil was your only priority and you now had to try to exist without your King but you knew in your heart you would fail miserably, if you didn't die first. You would make sure she lived though, even if it meant without you.

As the enormous craft began to move, the burning castle came into view. Your heart sunk at the fully engulfed structure as you watched it move further away.

You thought of Lestat. You didn't even get to say goodbye to him or Marius....or your grandmother Maharet. Your thoughts raced. Would you ever see them again? Where are they now? Where would they go? Was it your fault? Did Lestat blame you?

You made your way to the stern and sat down letting the brisk breeze flow through your hair, holding back the tears that dared to fall. The only sounds were of the rushing water sloshing beneath the vessel and the gulls flying and screeching in tow. The sky was hazy with smoke from the fire and the impending storm that steadily stalked the vessel's path as dusk crept up.

Your grief was clouding all your judgement and blocking you from realizing the truth. You couldn't feel Thranduil anymore, just numbness in your chest where your heart used to beat solely for him, but now there were only remnants of it after being ripped out. How were you still alive? If it weren't for Leann, you would tear the pendant from your neck and jump, in hopes to be reunited with the only one who had the power to make you whole again, for now you were just living in a shell with no soul. You cursed the fairytales you had believed in, for they were all just a big fat lie...a cruel fucked up joke. There was no happily ever after. Not without Thranduil. Just unbearable pain that filled the empty hole in your chest. There was no King to ride down on a great white horse and carry you off to his castle in the heavens while battling all your demons on the way. At least not anymore there wasn't, for he battled your demons and died because of it. If there was a hell on earth, you had found it. You always wondered how you would die and now you knew.

Memories were all you had left as they played like a movie in your mind. Even the simplest ones such as Thranduil pouring his glass of wine, or just watching him talk or look at you. The sound of your name rolling off his lips and his graceful movements. His bouts of anger and how it made him even more damn sexier than he already was. His smile, his eyes, his smell. his taste.

Your fists white knuckled on the rail as an overwhelming knot of despair suddenly arose in your core and traveled ferociously up your body and out of your mouth in the most heart wrenching scream.

"THRANDUILLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!"

(Please enjoy the fanvid I created below of Josie remembering Thranduil on her trip back to Dorwinion. It's a tear jerker...😪) Song is "The Other Side" by Ruelle

@redeemer46

Updated Masterlist

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Eighteen

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Previous Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Posted First On A03 Here 

It’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always Read Safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Notes: Gonna aim for at least a chapter a week now. I still have a lot planned for this silly au o'mine

Chapter 18: Encounter

     “Ki-” Edas voice was barely audible above the crashing of waves, the boom of thunder and his own wails.

       No

      No

      No

      No

      He wasn’t supposed to do this. This hurts people. He was hurting them. He only wanted to hurt the woman who had stabbed Hunter.

      His screaming slowly became sobbing, which only made the storm stronger. Kings breath hitched as he cried. He was breaking the Talon. He was killing them. He had to stop. 

      The captain's quarters was already engulfed in water, King darted out into the sea. He was a strong swimmer if he just got away- then his storm would follow him.

      King fumbled to get the stupid shoes on his feet off- before they were used to hide his finned toes but now they were only in the way.

      “No no-off.” King cried trying to get the things off.

      He looked up above at the water glowing in the light of lightning. The water was swirling around him, trying to pull the ships down to his depth.

      “No!” King sobbed. “No stop!”

      What if they all died because of him.

      “Stop! No more!” King hiccuped. “No more!”

      He was only powering the storm more in his panic. Was only making things worse. He couldn’t stop it. There was no stopping it.

      “Why are you crying?” A young but loud voice asked.

      King looked around trying to spot whatever other creature was down here with him.

      “You’re the one doing this?” The young voice continued. “Why are you doing it if it makes you sad?”

      “It’s not on purpose.” King sobbed looking back up to the storm above. “It- It wont stop.”

      “Oh!” The young voice replied. “Do you want help?”       “Yes! Can you stop it!” King looked around trying to spot the speaker.

      In the darkness of the ocean King could make out a pair of large yellow and red eyes glowing and staring up at him. 

      “Well- no” The voice continued, the eyes looking away for a brief moment. “But I can help. If you care about those humans so much.”

      “I do!” King called. “I care about them more than anything!”

      “I see.” The eyes looked up to the storm, King could make out the large silhouette of the figure. A large sea serpent of some kind. “There’s an island nearby. I’ll direct the waves that way but I can’t stop your storm, only you can do that.”

      “H-how?”

      “I don’t know.” The voice giggled. “How would I know?”

      “Right.” King hiccuped looking up at the storm. It was already beginning to calm down, because King was beginning to calm down. He just needed to breathe.

      “Breath in little King.” Camillas memory echoed in his head.

      King followed the breathing technique the woman had taught him. Closing his eyes and focusing in on the water coming into his gills and then back out.

      “See!” The voice cheered. “I knew you could do it!”       King opened his eyes to see the scene above him. The ships had been ramed together and pieces of them were diving down into the darkness below. There was no saving those ships.

      “Now I’ll just direct the tide!” The voice explained.

      King felt their movement before he saw it. The large sea serpent darted right next to him, their head the size of him as they came next to him and their eyes glowed brighter.

      King could feel the pull of the ocean.

      “There we go!” The serpent chuckled- but their mouth did not move as they spoke.

      They were large, and long. Half a yellow color and half a blue. They grinned showing off large teeth and their little whiskers floated around as they turned towards King.

      “They’ll be okay now!” The serpent spoke without their mouth again. “What’s your name?”

      “King.” 

      “Oh that’s a pretty on point name for a royal siren.” The serpent giggled. 

      “Royal siren?” King repeated.

      “Oh please, like you don’t know.” The serpent swam around as if playing in the water. “No other sirens can control storms like the royal sirens.”

      “What- Are you?”

      “A sea dragon.” The serpent chuckled. “You should know that too, after all we’re pretty similar you and I.”

      “How?”

      “Both hunted by the man of bones.” The serpent paused looking down at King. “Treating us like tools.”

      “The man of bones?”

      “You really don’t know?” The dragon realized. “The man of bones that hunted us all down. Why do you think there’s so few of us left? Don’t worry though, I’m going to kill him. I have a friend who is helping me.”

      “He hunted us down?” King looked down at his little hands, the fins between his fingers long since formed as he had hit the water. He played with them, extending his fingers to look at them as if they were more interesting.

      It made sense, Eda had found him all alone.

      “Yeah, he doesn’t need to breathe and the water doesn’t really affect him.” The dragon scowled. “I hate him so much, he’s so mean. But my friend is helping me come up with a plan to kill him.”

      “Your friend?” King looked up at the dragon.

      “Oh! I’m supposed to meet him back at his home.” The dragon looked away and then back to King. “I’m sorry little siren! I’d love to talk with you more but I need to go.”

      “Thank you.” King called as the dragon swam away at an incredible speed.

      King took to following the tide to find this island.

-------

       The sunlight was warm on her skin. As she inhaled water engulfed her once again. Willow flipped over coughing and gagging as she escaped the waves and crawled forward. Her lungs burned as she threw up the sea water.

      She groggily looked around at the beach she was on.

      What happened?     

      The storm and the attack suddenly came back to her and Willow pushed herself up.

      She couldn’t have been the only one to survive.

      Everyone else had to be safe too.

      She couldn’t accept it if they all died.

      She stumbled a bit trying to find her footing but her limbs were heavy. She didn’t have choice so she pushed forward along the beach. She had to find someone else, anyone else. 

      They had to be okay.

      Her stomach turned as she saw a body on the shore face down. She recognized Perry and slowly approached. She took an inhale before pulling the body up along the beach before she willed herself to check for a pulse.

      He was alive.

      Willow let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. There was hope she wasn’t the only survivor. She had to hope the others were all okay too.

      “Willow?” A voice made Willow look ahead to see Emira stumbling towards her. “Willow!” She said again, crashing into the girl with a hug. 

      “Emira.” Willow hugged her back. 

      “Is he?” Emira pulled back looking down at Perry. 

      “Alive.” Willow nodded. “Alive”

      “We have to find everyone.” Emira sighed. “They all need to be okay.”

      “We’re the owl pirates.” Willow reminded. “They’ll be okay.” She assured.

      Though she didn’t know if she believed it herself.

      Working together the two girls carried Perry further up the island. Under a tree where they propped him up so he could more easily breath or cough if there was anymore water in his lungs, but they had done a pretty good job getting some out. He just wasn’t waking up.

      “Okay,” Willow sighed looking around. “We probably should think about supplies.” 

      “What about the others?” Emira asked.

      “We’ll have to worry about that later.” Willow looked towards the sun to see it a little after noon. “We’re useless if we go and die on them. It’s best to find shelter, food and possibly good water.” She listed off. 

      If she was entirely honest with herself she felt guilty not instantly looking for the others, and as much as she wanted too to. She knew that wasn’t going to work out right now. They needed to survive before anything else.

       “Good point.” Emira sighed standing and dusting herself off- though it was a pointless thing as sand still clung to her. “We should stick together at least.” She looked down at Perry again. “What do we do about him?”

      “We’ll have to carry him.” Willow decided.

      “Right-” Emira grimaced. “You’re stronger I think I take your sword and if something attacks us you can drag him away.” 

      Willow hadn’t noticed Emira was missing her sword- that was a shame she just bought the new one. Willow nodded it sounded like a good plan. She handed the sword sheath to Emira and the girl fastened it around her waste before helping Willow pick up Perry to carry the man by his shoulders into the forest.

      Food, Shelter, and Water.

      That couldn’t be to hard this island seemed large.

-----

     “Would you stop whining.” Amity snapped looking back at her brother who was tailing behind her through the forest. She used the small dagger to cut through the vines. She counted herself lucky Luz had suggested she keep a knife on herself in case she ever lost her sword. She had thought it silly before- who would lose their sword- but Luz always was good at being prepared.

      “What if we starve Amity” Edric whined fumbling after her getting hit in the face by a branch Amity had ducked under. “OW”

      “Honestly why are you being annoying.” Amity sighed looking back at Edric. She knew her brother well enough he was just being dramatic as he rubbed his face where the branch slapped.

      “I am not annoying.” Edric whined.

      “You’re going to alert all the beasts on the island.” She remarked, still moving forward. They needed to find shelter before dark- or at the very least make shelter.

      Edric grumbled something under his breath but followed after Amity without hesitation. Amity had a sneaking suspicion Edric was just looking for an excuse to be whiny. It had been building up for a while now with Emira getting rid of her matching sword from him and then him being awfully stingy about everything on ship. The shipwreck was probably just him venting- in some unhealthy manner.

      “Would you at least make yourself useful.” Amity snapped back as her brother was still grumbling about something- truthfully she stopped listening.

      Edric shot her a glare as Amity looked back at him, but pulled out his sword to lead the way instead through the far to thick plant life.

      “Thank you.” Amity crossed her arms not daring to let go of her dagger in this place.

      A loud growl made her look around.

      They really needed to find shelter.

      “I think you’re right about the beasts on the island.” Edric whispered now much quieter.

      Good he was less of a headache this way.

      They made their way much quieter now. Keeping an eye and ear out for any possible danger. It wasn’t long before they stumbled upon an orange tree and decided this is where they would camp out. At the very least just for tonight. They worked together to make a somewhat tarp out of leaves and things to protect themselves at night if it rained.

      Edric may be annoying, but he was very resourceful when it came to survival. They had a very good start for a night at least, of shelter and food. They just needed some clean water, but Edric was already looking for some river or pond while he left Amity at their camp alone.

      She was finalizing and fortifying their little camp to be sure they could rest easy.

      Though she still had a feeling something was out there watching them.

-------

      Hooty flew high in the sky to see over the treetops on the island. The size of the island was intimidating when trying to find ones crew. He would have to fly for hours in order to find anyone else. 

      He swooped back down to perch on Liliths shoulder. She was walking with Gilbert along the shore but Hooty hadn’t spotted anyone nearby.

      “Islands to big.” Hooty informed. “Can’t spot anyone nearby. I think they might’ve gone into the forest.”

      “That’s probably what we should do.” Giblert sighed looking to the trees. “You sure no one was on the shore.”

      “I checked three times. No one else was near enough for me to see.” Hooty chirped.

      “You did great Hootsifer.” Lilith pet his head. “Come along Gilbert, lets get to searching.”

------

      His head was throbbing but he managed to pull himself up onto the rocky shore. Gus looked up to see the cliffs towering far above him. There was probably a way out of this cavern. There wouldn’t be anyway to survive here.

      He went to walk but stumbled. His whole body was sore. At least he hadn’t hit the rocks with too much force, but still any force was enough to hurt. 

      He limped using the cliffside as leverage as he walked. He could see the sky above and the ocean outward but the cliffs seemed to go on forever. 

      At least if his vision had been right he wasn’t going to die here.

      He let out a pathetic laugh as he slide down to sit on the ground. He was absolutely bruised everywhere but he did not want to check to be sure.

      He needed food, water, and shelter.

      That should be his first priority.

      But he just wanted to sleep right here.

      “Gus?”

      Gus lifted his head to see Matt carrying an armful of rations- rations from the ship- had he found?

      “Get up and help me asshole.” Matt stated walking into a cave.

      Gus stumbled up and limped over to the entrance to see Matt saving supplies from a crate that had been caught between a few rocks in the stream. He was fishing out some water and food.

      “Look at you lucky bitch.” Gus chuckled, stumbling over and sitting down to help Matt pull stuff out.

      Matt paushed and Gus looked over at him to see Matt staring at him.

      “You could’ve said you were hurt.” Matt commented.

      “I’m fine.” Gus waved it off.

      “Agustus you’re bleeding.” Matt snapped.

      Gus looked down at his leg and sure enough blood was soaking it. Oh he had cut his leg on a rock. He thought it was just a bruise.

      “Haha, would you look at that.” Gus felt like vomiting just looking at his leg. Sure, pirates faced worse than just a cut to the leg- even if this one was deep- and long-  and Gus was pretty good at avoiding injuries- but that’s the life of a pirate isn’t it.

      “Agustus!” Matt scolded. “At least take care of yourself damnit” Matt pulled off his headband- which was soaking wet- and wrapped it around Gus’s leg applying pressure.

      Gus wasn’t sure how to react as Matt kept scolding him while wrapping it tight around his leg. 

      “I’ll kill you if you think you can die out here on me.” Matt glared looking up at Gus.

      Gus was probably an idiot for thinking he looked cute angry about this.

      He gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

      Matt only pouted and went back to pulling things out of the waterlogged crate, saving what he could. When Gus went to help again he got scolded to lean against the cave wall and not to move.

      And Gus couldn’t really argue with the angry short boy.

      He actually spent the time to look around the cave from his little resting point. They were only at the entrance of it from the looks of it as the tunnel extended further ahead. It seemed to be the only direction to go unless the two boys could scale the cliffside- which neither were probably capable. 

      It was a funny thought to think of Luz doing it- she would find a way if anyone could- it was Luz afterall.

      Gus looked back at Matt as he was creating a makeshift bag out of a tarp to hold the supplies he had recovered. They would be able to find the others- hopefully. At the very least they both would survive and Hunter too as his visions were rarely wrong. Though once in a while he did take action to change them- and sometimes it worked- other times it seemed fate had a funny way of going about the same result anyway.

      So the one he saw of him and Matt was probably going to happen.

      Gus could only hope it wasn’t too soon he didn’t think he could handle it.

      “Why are you smiling like that?” Matt twisted his nose in disgust.

      He hadn’t realized he had been.

      He coughed turning away, suddenly feeling a lot warmer than before.

      “Just thinking-” He explained hoping Matt would drop it.

      “About what?” Matt asked.

      Gus shrugged. Most the time he could be smooth but right now he couldn’t come up with a reasoning. 

      “We’re stranded on an island, don’t know if anyone else is alive, your leg is cut open, and you’re smiling.” Matt scoffed. “Only Augustus Porter would have a reason to smile right now.”

      That did make him feel a little guilty.

      “We’re the owl pirates.” Gus shrugged with a smile glancing back at Matt. “I think it’s going to take more than a shipwreck to knock us out.”

      “Sure, but still- someone could be hurt.” Matt looked down at the supplies, avoiding eye contact the way he usually did when he was worried.

      “You’re not wrong.” Gus sighed. “I’m just trying to stay optimistic. Not think about the possibilities too much.”

      Matt nodded in agreement, still looking down as he slung the tarp of supplies over his shoulder. It truthfully looked rather silly to see the scrawny small boy lifting the bigger sack.

      “Okay we should get moving.” Matt looked towards the tunnel then back at Gus with furrowed brows. “Can you walk?”

      “Yeah-” Gus pushed himself to his feet and like his leg stung in defiance. He stumbled his way forward- slowly but forward.

      Matt was doing a poor job in acting like he wasn’t worried as he slowed his pace to match Gus’s and stayed close by in case Gus needed someone to lean on. Gus wasn’t about to use him to lean on when Matt was already struggling with the supplies.

      The light from outside was slowly getting dim as they went further in. Gus stopped when it was getting too dark to see further ahead. No light source to explore the cave meant they couldn’t go forward.

      “Now what.” Matt sighed trying to squint into the darkness- which was a pointless thing really.

      “We go back.” Gus shrugged. “Try to find another way around.”

      “Wait.” Matt pointed ahead and Gus followed his finger. There was a hint of a light source ahead, but it was a great distance and moving about in a dark unknown cave was practically a death wish.

      “We can’t-” Gus started.

      “What about your eyes glowing?” Matt looked up at Gus with a raised brow. 

      “That- I can’t control that- it’s only when I’m seeing.” Gus gestured. “I can’t exactly see the present when I’m doing that.”

      “But you controlled it with Amity.” Matt stated.

      “I am not using it on you to become your torch.” Gus folded his arms. “I can’t control what I see when I do it and I have already seen too much for my liking.”

      Matt let out a sigh and nodded. “Okay- Just a thought.”

      They had just been fighting about the fact Gus had a vision about Matt. Why was he now wanting to use his stupid visions as a light of all things.

      “I just want to get out of here.” Matt mumbled.

      Oh, right. 

      Did his eyes really glow brightly enough to use a torch? How had people around him never noticed his visions happening? Maybe people were just stupid.

      “I- I can’t promise not to see something you don’t want me to.” Gus stated.

      “I know that.” Matt looked up at Gus with the unspoken question of ‘is this too uncomfortable for you.’

      The answer was yes- but it was survival- and Gus was worried also.

      If he saw Matts death he was going to have a full on break down.

      He held out his hand. 

      “I wont see anything here.” Gus explained. “Hearing is- also difficult. Just tap my shoulder, and lead me. My leg also might-”

      “I get it.” Matt grabbed Gus hand in his own, Gus debated on leaning on the boy so his leg did not cause issues- but again- Matt was carrying all the supplies as well-

      Gus took a deep breath.

      and focused on Matts hand in his.

      Which was surprisingly very distracting. 

      “Well?” Matt asked.

      “It’s not easy.” Gus defended. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Even if Matt was okay with whatever Gus saw- it still felt very guilty.

       Then he opened them back up.

      Usually his visions were short bursts as they happened in moments, but when concentrating and taking his time it truly felt like he was in the vision itself.

      A younger Matt stood on the docks dressed in a navy uniform. He was standing at attention as the ship docked into the harbor. He watched with big eyes as the ship started to unload and waited at the bottom. For something- for someone.

     Gus watched the navymen come off the ship and phase through Gus as if he wasn’t there- because he wasn’t. They all avoided stepping on the little Matt who was crossing his arms with the pout on the face he got- when he was hiding the urge to cry.

      Gus wanted to hug him.

      “Matt.” Steves voice made Gus turn back to the ship. Steve looked wrong in the navy uniform- as if he never quite fit there in the first place. Steve hugged Matt.

      Only then did little Matt start crying.

      The world blurred in a rush as the memory faded and Gus found himself standing back on the Talon. When was this memory? It felt cruel seeing the Talon in one piece again after everything that just happened.

      But fate had always been quite crue to Gus anyway.

      “What are you doing?” Luz made the memory Matt jump as she approuched behind him.

      Matt was up a level above the main deck watching the crew before she had jumpscared him.

      “I’m not doing anything!” Matt snapped back at her before looking back down. He was sitting in the shadow barely visible from below.

      “You know- instead of watching him- you can talk to him.” Luz suggested with one of her signature smirking eyebrow raises.

      Gus looked to see who they were talking about. Only to see himself talking to Willow- and did he always look like that from a distance? It was always weird to see himself in visions- mainly memories as he gestured and posed a lot more than he realized.

      “He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Matt mumbled.

      “Ah please Gus thinks you’re great.” Luz elbowed Matt who scooted away from her with a glare.

      How long ago was this memory?

      “I treated him like dirt when we first met.” Matt scowled looking back down to memory Gus.

      “Nah- I mean you’re not as bad as when Amity joined the -” Luz started.

      “You say that a lot.” Matt interrupted. “Besides just because I’m not as bad as someone else doesn’t justify anything.”

      “Okay- you got a point.” Luz put a hand on Matt's shoulder and Gus snorted at the way the boy shot her the dirtiest look until she took it off. “Look, if you want to fix things with Gus. The best way is to talk to him. Communication is key for any friendship.”

      “Whatever.” Matt stood leaving Luz alone.

      However Matt walked down the stairs making his way to Gus.

      “Agustus.” Matt said, holding his hand out. Gus had forgotten Matt had only use to ever call him by his full name. Now it was only when he was upset at Gus or scolding him in a serious way.

      Memory Gus turned to look at Matt with a questioning expression before his eyes fell on Matts hand and recognition dance his features. 

      “Mattholomue.” He smiled back shaking Matts hand.

      Gus had missed Matt’s cheeks reddening the first time he’d been in this memory.

      Had missed the way Matt stuttered and looked away like he did when he was flustered.

      It was adorable.

      Once again the memory faded in a swirl.

      The dazzling lights greeted Gus first and he recognised the Hexside night. A performer was using their magical item to make the room appear to be under the stars. It had been one of Gus’s favorites to watch.

      The crew of the Talon were sitting at one of the front tables. The one they usually sat at right in the middle of everything. Everyone was watching the performance with wide eyes. Gus could see himself with sparkling eyes letting out a tiny squeal of excitement. 

      Then Gus saw Matt looking up at the lights as well, and then he looked at Gus. Watching how Gus reacted to the show and started to whisper about how amazing it was without looking away from the performance.

      Matts little smile as he watched Gus was something Gus had missed in the moment.

      Apparently he missed a lot of things in the moment.

      “That was incredible!” Memory Gus rambled as they walked back from Hexside to the Talon. “The music, the lights, the dance.” He gestured dramatically, reenacting a bit of it. “This is why I love Hexside nights.”

      “It was very pretty.” Luz agreed. 

      Matt was straggling behind everyone but keeping an eye on Gus- which apparently he did often. He titled his head as Gus went on to ramble about the other performances and perhaps a plan for his own.

      Gus never actually did get to perform at Hexside- he should make a point to do that if they ever get to go back.

      “Sure is happy isn’t he?” Steve leaned down next to Matt to whisper.

      Matt froze his entire face going red. “Shut up!” He whisper yelled and looked back at the others to make sure they couldn’t witness Steve teasing him.

      “Relax, they’re loud.” Seve patted Matts shoulder. “You should go for it.”

      Matt only looked away avoiding his brother's gaze. “Shut up.” He repeated, marching forward to escape his brother and avoid the others.

      The things Gus wishes he noticed more often. He knew the boy got flustered around him- and it was nice- he just had always assumed Matt wasn’t sure of his feelings. Was always worried Matt would hate the idea of crushing on Gus.

      It made him think of the other vision he had of the boy. The one not in the past but the present. 

      He felt hot again.

      The memory faded and Gus was really beginning to wonder how much he was going to see before Matt tapped his shoulder. He could still feel his body walking and being led by Matt, but he wasn’t sure how fast these visions were going by. They always seemed to have a funny sense of time.

      The sobbing hit his ears first.

      The room was dark and Matt was sitting in med bay. It was night but Steve wasn’t in the room like usual. Everyone knew Matt and Steve slept in the medbay when it wasn’t really being used. Who could blame them for wanting actual beds?

      Matt had his legs curled in on himself as he usually did when he cried. Always making himself as small as possible and hiding his face.

     “Matt?” He said it aloud- which he knew wasn’t how visions worked. This memory would play out how it did.

      Matt only remained on the bed wrapped under a blanket.

      Gus squeezed onto the real Matt's hands that were leading him.

      Real Matt squeezed back but Gus knew the boy had no idea what he was seeing.

      The door swung open in the med bay and Steve walked in holding plates of food.

      “Okay, you want to talk?” Steve asked, putting the food next to Matt and sitting on the bed with him.

      “No.” Matt grumbled not looking up.

      “It’s only going to explode later if you don’t talk about it.” Steve pointed out looking at his own plate of food but he didn’t seem all too interested in eating it.

      “I’m just stupid.” Matt complained. “I can’t do anything right. I keep screwing things up.”

      “What happened?”

      “I- I-” Matt sniffled and peeked his eyes up to look at Steve and then back down. “I’m stupid.” His breath hiccuped.

      “Well that’s not right-” Steve started.

      Gus could feel a tap on his shoulder.

      But he wanted to see why Matt was upset.

      “I tried-” Matt started lifting his head to look at the wall and gesture with his hands at himself. “I keep trying- and I keep-”

      Another tap on his shoulder.

      Come on Matt spit it out.

      “Yeah? “ Steve raised a brow. “You actually said something? Not just hinting?”

      The tapping was getting more persistent now.

      He knew that Matt must be talking about him? Maybe? He didn’t remember hurting him here? Did he say something? Not notice something?

      “I dunno- I don’t think he’s-”

      The tapping was very urgent, almost like it was an emergency.

      Gus let the vision fade and came to.

      The teal light was the first thing Gus saw. The moss here was glowing giving off a bright light in the cave. Matt was looking up at him with both his hands on his and looked as if he was scared for a moment, before covering it up. 

      “Did you not feel-” Matt started. “Right, I should’ve tapped better.”

      Gus didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast looking down at the boy in the teal lighting. Well- he sorta did- but it was so much worse now. 

      He avoided looking at Matt to study his surroundings now. 

      The cave opened up wider and the teal moss wasn’t the only light source, there was a large hole where sunlight was peaking through, but it was high up and neither boy could make that climb.

      So they were still stuck.

      “So what you see?” Matt asked.

      Right- owed him that it was his memories- maybe not all the details as it was too embarrassing to say ‘oh yeah just was looking back at us hanging out and admiring how cute you are.’

      “Uhm.” Gus couldn’t look at Matt. Which was stupid. He already was having issues from the other vision he had about the boy. The one in teal lighting- 

      Oh no, Gus was not going to be ready for that.

      “Well-” His face was burning but he managed to look back at Matt for a second to see him looking concerned. Any person would be feeling like their privacy was invaded.

      “When you joined the navy-” Gus started not able to keep eye contact with Matt. “Steve hugged you.” He tried to return to his normal demeanor but it was hard when he was feeling awfully hot. “When you and I started being friends- uhm- A Hexside night- and -” He paused, unsure what the last one was really about and his only theory of it being about something he did. “That’s it.” He lied.

      “Wow, we weren’t walking that long.” Matt stated. “At least it wasn’t anything embarrassing.” 

      Gus could only look at the glowing moss. They were either going to be down here a while- or return here- or maybe they’ll take some of the moss back and that's where the teal light in his other vision came from.  

      Gus winced as his leg shot pain when he went to walk forward. Throughout all the flusteredness he had forgotten about his stupid cut.

      “You should sit down.” Matt instructed setting the supplies down not far from the hole above. “I don’t think we can get out here anyway.” 

      “Yeah- I think we might be here a while.” Gus agreed, trying hard not to think about what he saw during that little storm. It had been a brief moment so he didn’t remember a lot of details in the speed and shock of the whole thing.

      He didn’t think he was ready to talk about that with Matt. He was already having a hard time just thinking about it. Chapter 19 Tumblr Link

[gotnofucks]

Midnight Adventures

Pairing: soft!dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: He thinks you’re trying to escape him, even though he’d made it clear who you belong to. Though the truth is far more innocuous than that.

Words: 2.1k

Warning: Dub-con, past non-con implied, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, smut, language. 18+ ONLY

A/N: Inspired by this ask I got . Finally getting back to writing in more than a month. 

He was going to tie you to the bed and never let you free. Anger flowed through his veins as he sneaked into the museum, looking around for you. Sam and Bucky snickered behind him, and he resisted the urge to flip them off.

“Cap, can you see any heat signature?” He asked Sam. Sam looked around, turning this way and that until he pointed at the hall on the right.

“That’s your girl right there Steve.” Sam answered, his shield reflecting the dim lights of the museum back. Steve nodded, asking them to stay back and hold off any cops who came in while he went in and got his girl out. Bucky had disabled the alarms you had triggered, but he was sure the place was about to be swarmed with authorities any second now. He had to get you out before that happened.

His feet barely making a sound, he entered the room Sam had pointed and glanced around. The only light streaming in was from the windows, and Steve could see your silhouette moving against one. You were muttering to yourself, stumbling over your own feet as you moved about. He let his gaze wander around the room before fixing it on you again.

You hadn’t realized he was there yet, too lost in your own world. Stepping closer, Steve stood directly behind you and turned his flashlight over you, clearing his throat. You screamed, turning around to look at Steve with a frantic and guilty look in your eyes. Steve opened his mouth to set you straight when he finally caught sight of what you were doing, and he stood there dumbfounded.

It seemed like you were stealing soil. One of the display cases was smashed open and you were transferring the grey soil in there into a glass container in your hand. You stilled, stopping midway in taking more soil as Steve stared at you in utter confusion.

“What on earth are you doing?” He asked, flabbergasted. You gulped, tentatively sealing your jar and putting it back inside the small bag on your back. You stood before him, guilty as small child caught sneaking cookies from the jar. Steve turned his head a little as distant sounds of feet reached his ears. The cops were here.

Without waiting for your answer, he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him, his eyes narrowed at you. His arms went around your waist, tugging you right into his body as he silently maneuvered you both towards the exit door at the end, peeking out. Two armed cops were coming this way, the faint sounds of grunts telling him that Sam and Bucky had a few others engaged out in the hall.

“Hold on, and don’t scream.” He whispered in your ear and you nodded, holding him around his neck. He walked over to the window and looked down at the deserted street. Pressing your head into his chest, Steve took a deep breath and jumped out. The wind rushed through your hair and you muffled your scream into his shirt, nails digging in his flesh as he landed swift as a cat on the road.

Without wasting a second, he took you and jogged away, the dark not deterring his steps. You tried to keep up with his large strides, dread and thrill of the chase coursing through your veins. A minute later, a familiar black car pulled up before you, Sam grinning at you from behind the wheel.

“Oh honey, you are in trouble.” He smirked, letting you and Steve in the backseat. The police sirens faded away as you all drove back towards the Avengers compound, Steve’s hand still wrapped around your arm. You chanced a glance at him, shuddering at the sheer anger on his face. Shit. You were a goner.

Steve dragged you back towards his room, ignoring his giggling friends behind. You ducked your head and followed him in silence. It was never a good idea to argue with him. Once inside, he locked the door and turned to you, a frown deepening the lines on his forehead.

“What the hell have I told you about trying to escape?” He growled, body tight with tension. It had been a while since he’d been this pissed at you, and you shivered.

“I wasn’t escaping.” You said, nervously shifting on your feet. Steve came closer to you before tilting your chin you, making you look him in the eyes. His eyes were dark and hard, a promise of punishment rolling in them like waves in an ocean.

“Then what the hell were you doing in that museum? You ran away!”

You shook your head desperately, clutching his shirt in your hands. It had been months since you last tried to escape. You knew how futile it was to keep trying. You could never overpower Steve, not with Bucky and Sam always by his side. You’d made peace with your situation a while ago. Steve had snatched you, had kept you by force. And you accepted it as your life. You’d almost come to…enjoy it even.

“I promise you Steve, I didn’t run away.” You implored, looking deep into his eyes so he could see the truth in yours. Unless you did something really drastic, Steve rarely ever got angry with you these days. It was scary to have him so pissed again.

“What were you doing in that fucking museum?” He asked again. You bit your lip before pulling out the jar of soil from your bag, offering it to Steve. He looked at it and then your face, which curiously held embarrassment along with guilt there.

“I was stealing Lunar Soil.” You admitted, shaking the jar slightly so the fire particles in there shifted. Steve blinked at you before taking the jar and examining it, confused.

“Why?” He asked, putting it aside. You didn’t answer and he scowled, stepping closer and closer until he backed you into the wall and stared you down. Running a finger down the side of your face, he brought his lips to yours in a dangerously soft kiss, his other hand balanced beside your head. “You know I have ways to extract information from you. Would you rather I resort to them?”

You gulped, half in fear and half in anticipation. Steve’s punishments were as much a torture as they were pleasure. He was your captor, but he was also the man who would scale every corner of the earth to give you what you want. His body had a way of making you crave his touch, an intimate solace for whenever your mind turned to how helpless your situation really was.

“I – I wanted to –” You stuttered, suddenly shy and mortified. Steve hummed and urged you to go on, his hand gliding down your side to cup your ass. You slowly peered into his face, scrunching yours nose. “I wanted to use it to make moonscreen.”

Whatever he expected you to say, Steve did not expect it to be that. He raised a brow at you, silently asking you to elaborate and you flushed, pressing your face into his chest to hide from his screening gaze.

“Moonscreen, it’s like, you know, sunscreen but for werewolves.” You said at last. Steve’s hands stilled from kneading your ass, a sort of stunned silence between you both. And then he growled low in his chest. He pushed you away to face you, incredulously staring at you.

“Did you run away from my bed in the middle of the night to steal something for a mythical creature?”

You pouted, playing with the button on his shirt to avoid looking in his angry eyes. It was all Peter’s idea anyway, but he was too much of a wimp to steal the Lunar soil himself. It wasn’t fair how you were bearing the brunt of Steve’s anger alone.

“They are not.” You counted softly. “Werewolves exist.”

Steve gave a strangled groan before crashing his mouth on yours, digging his fingers in your soft flesh as he carried you to the bed and dropped you on it. You moaned, kissing him back as he tore through your clothes like a man possessed. His hands were everywhere, mouth leaving a trail of sinful fire as it moved from your shoulder to your chest.

Your hand went behind his head when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, back arching as you urged him to go faster. Wiggling, you untangled your pants from around your knees, wrapping your legs around Steve. He sat up and stripped quickly, covering your naked body with his again. There was a frenzy in his actions, an urgency to have you closer.

Quickly checking if you were wet enough, he entered you in one practiced thrust, tearing a cry from you. You whined, yours arms pulling him closer as he went in and out of you, roughly breathing with each stroke.

“You idiot girl!” He snapped, entwining your hands with his and pinning them beside your head. Sweat glittered on his hairline, his body rocking hard into you, sweet pleasure running down your spine and settling as heat in your womb. “You fucking dumb bitch!”

It seemed like he had a lot to say but just couldn’t. So, he showed you. He kissed you like he was sucking your very soul from your body, he fucked you as if branding you from within, he held you as if he could merge you into himself. Panting, softly cursing, Steve took you hard and fast, eliciting mewls and cries from you that fell like music on his ears.

“Mine. You are mine!” He said, but more as a statement than anything else. “You don’t leave me ever again. Never.”

The coil in your gut tightened, Steve letting one of your hand go to bring his to your bud and flick it with expertise. His eyes were fixed on yours, holding your very being hostage with his power. In a moan that echoed off the walls, you succumbed to his will, shattering below him and falling limp, floating in a haze of glittering pleasure. He buried his head in your neck, thrusting a few more times before finishing inside you, his cum flooding you within and warming your core.

You panted, sweaty and sated, wearing his marks and covered in him. He rolled over, taking you with him so you rested above, your ear over his chest that thumped with his strong heartbeat. Crazily, you found peace. In the hailstorm of your fucked up life, Steve was the one you held you together. He was the one who pushed you down, and he was the one who caught you as you fell. Your sanity, your insanity.

“If I ever wake up to you gone again, I’ll shackle you to me. You get it?” He murmured, running a hand over your back. You nodded, shifting closer into the warmth of his body. He grunted in approval, pulling a sheet over you before he got up to bring a cloth to clean you.

Kneeling before your legs, wiping gently and softly tracing your folds, Steve murmured soft words of love and praise and apology. He kissed your abused hole, the inside of your bruised thighs, the mass of your belly and the softness of your breast. He kissed your eyes and your nose, reaching your mouth the last.

“What is my truth?” He asked, dressing you into soft pajamas and cradling you into his lap. You relaxed into his touch, head on his chest.

“That you love me, and you’ll never apologize for that.” You answered. In the most bizarre way, you did believe he loved you. And though his love wasn’t perfect or without pain, it was what got you through his darkness that confined you here by force.

“And what is your truth?” He asked, lips on the crown of your head. You closed your eyes, listening to the beating of his heart that matched yours.

“That I am yours.” You said, sleep creeping over you in a beautiful embrace. Shifting you in his arms, Steve laid you down and spooned around you, hands covering your own. You wiggled, pressing your bum into Steve’s groin, and smiling at the catch in his breath.

You floated towards oblivion, a dream already encroaching over your consciousness when you sleepily called out to Steve. He hummed, squeezing your hands gently.

“Werewolves are real.” You muttered and before he could so much a snort out a laugh, you were snoring.

Steve smiled into the darkness, running his thumb over the back of your hand. The panic of your disappearance earlier was replaced by fondness, his heart full of love for you. No, he would never apologize for how he had taken you. Just like the lunar soil sitting on your nightstand was still a part of the moon, no matter how far apart, you were always going to be a part of him. That was your truth, both of yours.

[imagine-nation20]

Sunshine and The Art of Picking Your Battles

Summary: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Requested By: Anon

Request: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.” for Jason Todd (with the reader being kidnapped by any villain you want)

A/N: Jason Todd will forever and always be the best robin and I will not take criticism. Also I love writing established relationship with superheroes where one doesn’t know the other is a vigilante, so enjoy some reader having no sense of self preservation, and Jason outing himself as the red hood.

~~~

You hated Gotham. Or rather, you hated the criminal underbelly of Gotham, which wasn’t so much an underbelly as it was a very obvious toupee on the top of the head of the city. Gotham was built on crime, and it would probably crumble under the weight of crime. Most people who lived there were either involved in crime, or involved in the vigilante justice served by the masked crusaders.

Running a bar in Gotham was bad, running a bar in the crummy part of Gotham was worse. That is, if you could claim any part of Gotham wasn’t crummy.

Still, it was a better job than some of the other options. Who could blame the owner of the place appointing you manager and fucking off to his apartment in the only part of Gotham that could afford working deadbolts.

So it was no wonder that you got jumped on your way home after a particularly grueling shift.

Three men dressed in suits too nice for the area. It was pretty much common sense to learn some form of self defense if you were going to live in a city like Gotham, however, three against one wasn’t exactly fair odds.

They tied your wrists, dropped a bag over your head, and then hit you with something heavy and blunt that was probably going to leave permanent damage.

Waking up was a headache, to say the least. Your head pounded like a drum, the blood rushing through your ears sounding like the waves against the harbor. Or maybe that really was the harbor.

It didn’t really matter, because you had a bigger problem to worry about than whether or not the ‘whooshing’ in your ear was blood or water. 

A man, dressed in an expensive suit, stood a few feet away. His head was covered in the dark, slightly shiny material of a mask, shaped like a skull. Beady eyes peered through, staring you down.

“So, what is a bartender like yourself doing associating with the Red Hood?” Roman Sionis was easily recognizable, and his identity was not a secret to the citizens of the city. He seemed almost proud to lord the fact that everyone knew who he was, but couldn’t put him away for anything tangible.

Unless of course that person was Batman or one of his many disciples.

“What the fuck are you on about?” You slurred. You cursed yourself internally for your inability to keep your mouth shut. Most of the time you were okay, but you were tired, and in pain, and this was the third time this week you had been assaulted, so you were over it. Criminals and crime lords were a dime a dozen, and despite his very intimidating reputation, you could not care less about Black Mask.

He laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I’m talking about the fact that I have on good word that Red Hood has been in your shitty little bar almost every night for the past week.”

You were going to kill Kallista.

You avoided associating with vigilantes, but your coworker, and the woman who worked most night to day shifts, was known for giving vigilantes free drinks when they dropped in. Now, it seemed you had been mistaken for her. Serves you right for having the audacity to pick up her shift when she was sick.

You had seen a few of them drop in on your way out, but never Red Hood. She probably told him not to catch you, since you would have reemed her for it. Red Hood wasn’t a criminal, but he was known for incurring their wrath like no one else, and that usually ended up in situations like this.

Yes, Kallista was going to die… so long as you made it out of this.

“Listen pal,” you started, glancing around the room for a way out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You weren’t a bad friend, and you certainly weren’t going to sick Roman Sionis on your friend. Even if she did get you in this situation in the first place.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He yelled, taking quick steps towards you. You winced back, hearing the flick of a switchblade, and feeling the cold press against your cheek.

“Listen, if I was associating with the Red Hood, I would have told you by now.”

“For some reason, I just don’t believe you.”

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice echoed through the warehouse. From above, you could see the familiar brown leather jacket, and bright red helmet of the Red Hood. He was reclined against a support beam, legs dangling off the one he was sitting on. “I’m going to be honest with you, I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Hopping down from the beam, he landed, knees bent, feet light. It was almost impressive, the way he could silently drop. If you weren’t so tired, you might have taken the time to marvel at the way his pants bunched and stretched. Kallista was right after all, there was a certain appeal to the vigilantes in uniform.

Roman shifted around you, knife going to your neck. You took in a sharp breath, glaring at the Red Hood as he faltered in his pace.

“Take another step and she dies,”

“I was gonna say thanks for coming, Hood,” You glared, “but you’ve kinda made the situation worse.”

You could almost see the tick of annoyance through the mask. His fists clenching slightly, he grumbled, “This is the thanks I get?”

“I’ll thank you when I don’t have a knife to my jugular.”

Black Mask tightened his grip on you, knife digging in a slight bit. You didn’t think it had pierced skin yet, but you couldn’t be sure. 

The next few seconds seemed to go by in an instant. The shattering of glass, the whizzing of something through the air, the knife nicked your neck, then was gone, and so was the grip of Roman Sionis.

Red Hood moved towards you, gloved hands untying the ropes that kept you bound to the chair. You looked to the side, seeing Black Mask passed out on the ground, a strange arrow sticking to the outside of his helmet. You could have sworn you saw little strings of electricity still moving over the black material.

The masked vigilante hoisted you from the chair, his arms slipping behind your back and beneath your knees.

“Seriously?” You deadpanned, “I can walk, you know. My legs aren’t broken.”

It didn’t seem like he cared, as he scoffed, “I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“I didn’t think heroes were so egotistical.”

“Not really a hero, sunshine,” you could hear the smile in his voice, even through the strange effect his helmet gave off. You went stiff at the name.

Jason faltered mid step, and you knew you had him. Spewing a flurry of curses, you wriggled out of his hold and onto the gravel below. The rocks bit into your skin, and Jason moved to crouch and help, but you were already up and slapping at his arm.

“You son of a bitch, Jason,” you whisper shouted, “you’re so stupid. How long have you been the- no, I don’t want to know.”

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t you sunshine me, Todd,” you growled, “You didn’t think to tell me you were a fucking vigilante? And moreover, you were getting free drinks from my coworker while she ranted to me about your thighs?”

“What?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “No, no, I wasn’t… I was looking out for you! I was trying to make sure you got home safe! What about my thighs?”

You paused, mouth hanging open. You hadn’t known Jason for very long. He had come in during one of your shifts with a busted lip and a dazzling smile, and left with your number and the promise of a date. You should have guessed back then, if you were being honest, but you believed him when he said he had gotten jumped. Maybe he had been telling the truth, just not the whole truth.

Stalling so that you didn’t give in to his guilty look so easily, you glanced around. So it had been the ocean you were hearing. You turned back around, trying and failing to hold the vicious glare.

“You better have a ride back to my apartment, cause we are about to have a long talk about impulse control, honesty, and the art of picking battles.”

“You sound like my dad.”

Silence.

“OH MY GOD IS BRUCE WAYNE-”

[marvelobsessedteenager]

All The Hurt - Chapter 4

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, horrible description of death and feelings lmfao I’m sorry

Word count: 3.4k

A/n: sorry about the late update! it’s my 18th birthday and it’s 11 pm and i just got home HAHAHA. 

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You were barreling towards death with your eyes closed as your body hit the elevator’s ground, deafening screams emitting from your mouth as you thought, this is it. This is where I die.

Multiple callings of your names sounded through the empty shaft, and you were sure Spider-Man was one of them.

The elevator was hit by a stray metal pole on the right side, but it wasn’t enough to stop it, only enough to cause a dent on the inside. It was like a rollercoaster - slow as it reached the top, but fast and gaining speed as it dropped.

Only, rollercoasters were fun and safe, and didn’t make you feel like The Grim Reaper was welcoming you with open arms like a friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.

I’m sorry, you found yourself thinking, over and over again. You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, or to whom, but your life flashed before your eyes like they do in the movies, and only then did you realize that you regretted most of it.

You regretted not begging your mom to stay.

You regretted not asking your dad to be home more often - for you to see him at least more than once a year.

You regretted not going after Peter, you regretted not telling him how you felt, you regretted bullying him. Two wrongs never made a right, and you should’ve known that sooner, but you let your anger blind you.

You weren’t a bully. That simply wasn’t you.

But that was how you were going to die.

You were going to die with everyone believing that you showed your true colors this year, and were proud of it.

I’m sorry.

But it all happened so quickly.

“Gotcha!” Someone said as a figure wrapped itself around your body - warm but stiff and solid. The floor beneath you was long gone, and you wondered if you died, still unwilling to open your eyes to check if you did.

It was proven that you didn’t need to, though.

You heard Peter. Peter and his reassurances: “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He was breathing hard against you, the fabric of his mask straining his voice, but it was still as clear as daylight. The loud crash of the elevator below you echoed through the emptiness, which caused your breath to hitch in fear.

"I got you, Y/n. I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise.” He whispered in between pants, hugging you close to his body while you clung to him for dear life, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist and arms around his neck, like they had just found their other half and didn’t want to let go.

You were sure you were squeezing the life out of him, but he didn’t complain. He never did.

You couldn’t tell if it was your heart that was beating like a thumping drum or if it was his.

And you lost it, right then and there.

You let harsh sobs wreck through you like a tidal wave. The kind where you felt like your world was falling apart, your fingers tingling and your shoulders feeling heavy, like boulders were trying to weigh you down as the air around you stilled.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He repeated, tightening his arm around your body as salt water made its way down your cheeks and onto your tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you wept, voice thick with remorse and head heavy as you dug it into his neck, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, “don’t be, you’re okay. We’re okay.”

You knew that he was talking about being alive, but you couldn’t help but look for a double meaning - the other one where he was talking about the destroyed relationship between the two of you.

Still, you kept crying, releasing built-up sadness that you never allowed yourself to release. It felt liberating, to be frank, and if you hadn’t been right on the edge of death for the second time, you’d be embarrassed by the amount of tears you shed.

But you let yourself shed them anyway. Deep down, you knew Peter was the one that left you, but what you were doing, bullying him, wasn’t right, either. This time, you chose to be the bigger person.

Once you calmed down, save for your hiccups, Spider-Man spoke, “Hey,” he gently coaxed you out of your hazy mind, almost as if his words could break you. You knew from experience that they could.

You sheepishly lifted your head and bore your red eyes into his, aware of the fact that you looked like a train wreck. You were sure your head looked like a bird’s nest with your face as red as a tomato, and it mustn’t have been a pretty sight that Spider-Man was getting a close up of.

Your faces were merely inches apart, and it was too easy to imagine his uncovered face this close to you. You felt his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your waist where his arm remained.

“I’m gonna need you to trust me, all right?” He softly asked, “I’m gonna need to jump, but I promise I won’t let go. Okay?”

As soon as he said the word ‘jump’ your brain began spiraling again. You looked above you at the height that he would allegedly leap through, tracing the length of the web that he was holding onto, and then looked down to see how far down you’d fall if you had.

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening and arms subconsciously tightening around him in fear of slipping down, down, down. It seemed to go on forever, like a bottomless pit, but you knew what awaited you at the end of it.

“Don’t look down, don’t look down.”

You glanced back up at him, petrified.

“Just keep your head on my shoulder and close your eyes.”

And eventually, you did, taking deep breathes and allowing yourself to reminisce a time where you’d do exactly what you were doing. You’d hang onto him like you were now, and he’d allow you to, knowing a hug was always what you needed to calm down.

He was your anchor, keeping your ship from sailing away into dark and stormy oceans.

A gush of wind later and your feet were safely planted on stable ground, and he was long gone before you had the chance to say anything.

No opportune time came. It never felt like the right moment, and you thought that it wouldn’t ever come.

Sally had asked that you stay after school to do your hefty science project, and you agreed since you had nothing better to do. And that’s when you saw him most of the time.

Two weeks after the Washington DC. save, you started paying even more attention to him. You noticed him participating in Spanish class more, you saw him stay after school for detention due to him skipping out on Decathlon, and you noticed he didn’t dash out of school when detention was over.

Sure, you felt like a creep just watching him from afar, but you knew something was up. He seemed less enthusiastic, and you were pretty sure it had to do with the fact that Spider-Man sightings dropped to zero, as New York questioned his whereabouts in newspapers you saw in bodegas.

Your guess was that after the ferry incident, Tony Stark took his suit away. Peter was a genius, through and through, but you knew he didn’t have the items necessary to build his suit, and so you guessed Tony made it for him, and had the ability to take it away whenever he pleased. You weren’t sure what the reason was, but you hoped it was a good one.

Even after seeing him multiple times throughout the day, you’d always rush to the bathroom to rehearse your speech in the mirror and hype yourself up, only to chicken out last minute. You wondered if you should text him or call him, asking to meet up, but you always shook your head and thought, “better not.”

Your brain was constantly seeking out chances and imagining different outcomes, and that resulted in your nerves skyrocketing and mind blanking at inappropriate times.

Like right now.

“Y/n!” Flash’s loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Um,” You sheepishly rubbed your arm and bit your lip, avoiding Flash’s questioning eyes.

“Penis Parker is right there! Come on, this is a great opportunity.” He nodded towards Peter who was sitting at the waiting office, tediously toying with the strings of his hoodie. Flash believed you were still in shock, and his way of bringing you back to life was finding opportunities to bully Peter. You used to love it. But now, now you couldn’t bear to do it. Not that he knew that.

Before you could object, Flash strutted his way over to him and leaned on the doorframe, “Yo, Penis Parker.”

Peter closed his eyes and deeply sighed, looking up, “What do you want, Flash?”

“You know, Spider-Man never mentioned anything about knowing you,” He taunted, getting straight to the point, “I mean, he would’ve had he not stood you up at that party. Probably isn’t your first time getting stood up, though, huh?”

He chortled, “I’d bet my life that you probably don’t even have a date to Homecoming. I don’t know who to feel worse for. You, for 100% getting rejected or the girl being asked by you, right, Y/n?”

He twisted his head to see your blank face, your body stiffening as your vision moved to Peter, who was watching you with an almost pained expression, as it brought back memories of the weeks before. The weeks that felt like they happened years ago.

You knew Peter was waiting for another insult to hit him, but you found yourself unable to speak as your eyes were glued to his, feeling your stomach closing in on itself.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You knew it wasn’t right, and you knew that it was time to stop, especially after everything Peter had done for you. After all the times he saved you.

You cleared your throat and focused on anything but Peter, “That’s enough, Flash.”

Flash’s posture slacked and he furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“That’s enough.”

“But-“

“Eugene.” You cut him off, looking him dead in the eye and delivering a message that meant you were serious. You jutted your head in your direction and walked away, missing the way Flash and Peter stared at your retreating back incredulously.

With Homecoming approaching fast, you agreed to go with Zach, one of Flash’s friends and the boy who wouldn’t stop bugging you about going with him. You knew he just wanted to use you to tell others he ‘scored’ but you couldn’t care less. Truthfully, you were only going to confess to Peter that you knew his secret. Homecoming, you thought, would be a perfect time considering you planned to be each other’s dates to the event when you were younger.

Guess you didn’t know that time not only brings people together, but separates them, too.

You drove yourself to Homecoming and parked your car as close to the school as possible in case things went wrong and you needed the escape. You took a minute to touch up your hair and makeup, which really wasn’t much more than your normal everyday look, and inhaled deeply before getting out and walking into what you were sure was going to be a disaster, purse hanging by your side.

You met up with your group of friends, rolling your eyes as Zach hugged you (too tightly), that were drinking punch in their most stylish dresses and tuxes and dancing to upbeat music. Liz and her team definitely did a good job setting up the decorations and disco ball, successfully transforming the boring gym into a chic dance floor.

Flash had informed you beforehand that he’d be taking ’this chick’ to a lavish restaurant before coming to the dance and asked if you wanted to tag along, but you refused to be a third-wheel, telling him you’ll instead meet him at school instead.

Homecoming meant close to nothing to you if you weren’t with the person you’d been waiting for your whole life, which is why you spent the first fifteen minutes eyeing the crowd for a certain boy. The sooner you told him, the less you’d feel like you were going to throw up the contents of your stomach.

And finally, you saw him entering the building looking pale, like he’d seen a ghost. You worried, your gut telling you something was seriously wrong as you watched him walk to Liz, appearing to be distressed, and perhaps..guilty.

Everything only worsened when Liz’s face dropped and-

He was running. Running away from Liz. Which clearly didn’t make any sense, but goddamnit nothing is making sense these days!

You contemplated going after him, not understanding what the fuck was going on. Why was he running? Does this have something to do with Spider-Man? Should you run after him?

Something was pulling you towards the double doors he sprinted through, like it was calling your name and luring you in. You didn’t know if you should answer its callings or ignore them.

He could be in danger.

But he also could’ve just panicked.

It was obvious Liz was his date, and maybe he ran to the bathroom to freshen up and give himself a pep talk. Usually, you were the one to do that, but you lost your place as his personal hype girl long ago.

But then, why is Liz crying?

No, no, this isn’t something Homecoming related. This is Spider-Man related.

You excused yourself from your group and made it look like you were heading to the bathroom, but once everybody was out of sight, you threw your heels to the side of the hallway and raced around the halls, wondering where he would be.

You were short of breath as you took a minute to stop and place your hands on your knees. You ran through almost every hall you could, and you were running short on routes to take.

While stretching your neck, you saw something on the ground in your peripheral vision. A strewn tie.

You went over and picked it up, confirming that it was indeed the tie Peter was wearing. Up ahead were a whole bunch of stray items of clothing scattered around, and you followed those, picking them up along the way and tossing them in a big pile beside the lockers.

You hoped to God he wasn’t naked like you thought he was.

The clothes stopped when you reached the back of the school, where the buses were usually parked. You quietly opened the door and let your bare feet touch the cold asphalt below them. You heard talking, a man’s voice, and the same purring sound you heard when you found the glowy-machine thing, only louder.

You hastily followed the noises, hiding behind one of the large buses, placing a hand on your mouth to keep your gasp inside at the shock of the scene laid out in front of you. There Peter was, on the ground beside an upside down bus, attempting to escape from the man that was advancing towards him with another strange machine.

“Why did he send you here?” Peter grunted, using his elbows to crawl away. You panicked and looked around for something, anything, you could use to fucking stop the guy from killing Peter. Your eyes lit up when you recognized one of Peter’s web shooters thrown to the side, sauntering over to it and turning it in your hands, trying to get it to work.

“Come on, come on.” You muttered, hitting it multiple times while aiming at the guy to get it to shoot, but you didn’t know how it worked, and nothing that you were doing seemed to be doing anything.

“Guess you’ll never know.” Said the dude, pulling back and getting ready to shoot at Peter.

“No, no, no, come on! Shoot your gross webs!” You desperately mumbled under your breath, hitting it harder and faster. Your palm ended up smacking a button, making a large web come out and cling to the machine. You were frozen in spot as the guy’s eyes met yours, pure anger swirling in them.

“Yes!” Peter said before turning to look at you. His shoulders stiffened, but he shook his head and pulled on the web, taking both the bad guy and the web shooter down with him.

Now that both of the webshooters were in his hold, he used them to web up the villain to the bus.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until a voice came out from behind you, “Holy shit!”

You jumped in surprise, pivoting and raising your fist to punch the stranger behind you. Your jaw fell open the second your hand collided with Ned’s face, guilt rendering you motionless.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, Ned!” You gasped, hesitantly putting a hand on his back, feeling absolutely horrible as he held his eye, moaning in pain, “I’m so sorry! I-I thought you were one of them so I just- are you okay? Holy fuck, I’m so, so sorry!”

“Damn, Y/n.” He weakly laughed, “Who knew you could punch that hard?”

You bit your lip in worry, “I’m so sorry, Ned. I didn’t mean it, I swear.” You said, trying to get a look at how bad it was.

“It’s good, I’m fine. Well, maybe I’m gonna need some ice but I’m cool, it’s all good.” He gave you a thumbs up before hissing and opening his eye.

It looked swollen and was starting to turn into a nasty shade of blue, but he kept reassuring you it was okay, which didn’t make you feel any better.

“I’ll get you ice, I promise.” You said, rubbing his back gently with a pained expression.

The clearing of a throat behind you called to you and Ned’s attention, an awkward silence setting between the three of you until Ned's eyes widened as much as they could.

“Oh! I-it’s Spider-Man!” Ned said, unconvincingly trying to sound surprised, “W-what a coincidence that you’re here, Spidey! I-I’m such a huge fan! And I’m sure Y/n is, too.”

You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a deep breath, “Why do you do this to me?” You mumbled into the sky.

“What are you doing?” You asked Ned.

“What do you mean? It’s Spider-Man. Isn’t it shocking that he’s here?”

You heard a long, disappointed sigh coming from Peter, who stood far away from both you and Ned. Too far, in your opinion.

“Ned, I know who he is.” You admitted, somehow hearing Peter’s breath getting caught in his throat.

“I..I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Dude! I know it’s Peter, cut the bullshit. You’re horrible at lying.” You turned to look at Peter, giving him a sad smile, “And you’re still not good at hiding things from me.”

Peter’s shoulders visibly sagged, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head, something he did when he was uncomfortable. He must’ve seen you dissect his action because he immediately put his arm down.

“Okay,” Ned sighed, “well, what now?”

“Look, I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” You cautiously said, “I’m just..I can help if you want me to. With that.” You pointed towards the webbed dude, offering your services to Peter. You swallowed down the feeling of you doing this to make yourself feel better about the way you treated him. Almost like you were trying to reverse what you’ve done.

Regardless, Peter stared at the villain for a long time, and then abruptly spoke.

“All right, here’s what I want you both to do.” He finally said, hastily moving closer, “The guy with the wings is Liz’s dad-“ Ned gasped, “-I know! I gotta tell Mr. Stark. Ned, I need you to call Happy Hogan, he’s Mr. Stark’s head of security. Y/n, I need you to track my phone for me, okay?”

You nodded, and even though you were confused as shit, you were happy to help in any way possible.

Ned quickly took off, holding his white hat to his head as he ran back into school with an obvious pep in his step. Peter was getting ready to swing away, but you weren’t going to let your chance leave with him. You readied yourself, the speech in your head tumbling around in your mind, ready to exit your mouth.

Ready to get some closure, and to finally be the bigger person.

“Peter?” You said, your voice coming out as a whisper, but the wind seemed to have carried it over to him because he stopped and hesitantly turned around.

You had to remind yourself how to breathe as you looked at him. He was so close, yet so far away, and just like that, your mind went blank, the words erasing themselves and leaving you with a tight throat. You gulped, your legs carrying you over to him before you chickened out even further.

You tentatively wrapped your arms around his rigid body, feeling the tears starting to cascade their way down your cheeks.

What for? You didn’t know, but you just let them fall anyway.

“Thank you.” You wobbly said, slightly afraid that he was going to push you away when he just stood there. It took a moment for him to give in and return the hug, pulling you closer. He nodded into your shoulder, and you knew he understood what you were thanking him for without having to say it.

You both worked like that.

You couldn’t comprehend how much lighter you felt after saying those words, how much had been lifted off your shoulders that you finally, finally did the right thing.

Finally, you did something you wouldn’t ever regret.

You gave him one last squeeze and pushed him back, keeping him at arm's length, fighting the urge of staying in his arms forever, "Be safe.” You sniffed, stepping back to give him space.

“I will.”

And with that, he swung away, leaving a promise behind that he’d be safe, and that he’d make it out okay.

You breathed out and straightened your posture, wiping the tears away with your hand and running into school to pay the nurse’s office a visit.

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Tags: @peachescream06

[mf-despair-queen]

Stranded - Thomas

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 11,426

Summary: You hated him. You despised him. He was arrogant for what he had done, taking down WICKED. He was the reason that your friends had died in the attack. But, when you find yourself stuck at sea, or even worse, stranded on a deserted island with Thomas, you find yourself realizing you were wrong. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Oral, Choking, Sex in the Water, kinda public sex I guess?, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk

Notes: I guess I live??? I guess I still write. I don’t even know anymore y’all. I’m sorry I don’t post often these days. And I’m sorry this is as late as it is. It was meant for @writingsbychlo​‘s Thomas month three months ago but between work and laziness, I didn’t finish on time. Because, essentially, I suck ass. And tbh, I’m not incredibly happy with the outcome of this. It could have been way better than it was because I loved the idea a lot. But at this point, it’s as good as it’s going to get and I just want it done and out there. Hope y’all enjoy it. Big thanks to @roscoeknows​ and @brien-odylan​ for always pushing me with this, and @jagked-up​ for being a sweetie and proofreading for me. 

“Gather around everyone!” Vince yelled, his voice dictating the crowd of survivors to the beach front for the early morning discussions. You flopped to the sandy ground, wrapping your arms loosely around your knees that were tucked into your chest. Sharing a few nods with your friends as they passed by, you avoided the gaze of the ex-WICKED test subjects from maze A.

Many of the boys were kind and you got along with easily, but it was the tall, dark haired former runner that never struck you right. Upon learning that he had worked with WICKED growing up, and the downfall of the Right Arm shortly after his arrival, you decided to stay clear of the man, choosing to never forgive him for ruining the home you worked so hard for - causing the death of those who were close to you and raised you to who you are now. That, and he always seemed to be full of himself for his help in saving many people and stopping WICKED. 

Well, that’s what you heard from some of your closest friends at least. 

You had never truly interacted with the male for long periods of time. It was always in passing during dinner or around camp while getting work done. He would occasionally try to strike up a conversation, but you gave some excuse before running off, letting out a huff of annoyance that he would never get the hint. His aura was aggravating without reason, but you had no plans to befriend the amnesiac. 

Turning your gaze towards Vince, who stood upon a rickety stage made of driftwood and fallen branches along the edge of the forest behind camp that you feared would break under his heavy, muscled stature and weighted boots, your ears perked up to hear his morning announcements.

“Good morning everyone,” he called, voice as authoritative as ever. “Based on some recent discussions and feedback from everyone for their tasks around the Safe Haven we have decided to try out a new method for jobs. Moral has been low because people have been mentioning that they have felt things have gone stale because they’ve been doing the same job every day since we situated here, free of infection, free from WICKED."

“So, in an attempt to raise the mood around here, we will be testing out a lottery draw for daily tasks. Remember, this is just a trial run to see how people like it and I think it’ll be good for everyone to be familiar with all of the jobs. And so you are all aware, there will be no job swapping. Once you choose something, that is what you’ll be doing for that day.”

You pouted at yourself, huffing in annoyance. A lottery? Seriously? There were a number of jobs you wished to avoid, namely the ones that involved tending to the pigs that were being raised and handling slimy things that made you cringe. To top it off, you would potentially have to work with people you didn’t know or get along with instead of the people you knew you could stand for more than a few hours.

“We have set up a station outside the dining commons for you to choose your job for the day. And we’ll get some feedback during dinner to see how things went. We’ll decide after a couple weeks if we want to keep it like this, try something new, or go back to how it was before. So please everyone, line up to draw your job for the day.”

You let out a heavy sigh, watching numerous people rush towards the job drawing, uttering something about wanting to be first in line or hoping that they have a better chance at a better task. You were slow to stand, regrettably joining the line of people while patting the sand off your backside. Silently praying you didn’t get struck with a case of bad luck for once, you watched people one by one choose their jobs. Some cheered while others wept, being consoled by their friends. Your own friends - or the group you typically hung with - chose their jobs, luckily ending up in the same task of harvesting the gardens.

Your eyes narrowed on the group of former test subjects that chatted happily after choosing their jobs. Minho, the hulky athletic male of the group, flexed and laughed at his choosing of forest running, gathering food and wood for the village. Newt, the timid brainiac that was lucky to have survived not only a stab wound but the Flare as well, was working the medical room, which he seemed pleased about. Whereas Thomas, your least favorite person in the Safe Haven, was silent, showing an awkward, lopsided smile that you couldn’t read. Was he happy about his job? Disappointed? Apathetic? 

Who cares.

You turned from the trio as you approached the box yourself, staring one of the leaders named Mark in the eye. With a short nod at the older gentleman, you stuck your small hand through the hold in the top, feeling the dwindled number of papers inside. One last inaudible prayer later, you were pulling the slip out, eyes clenched shut and bated breath. 

Your heart fell when you finally cracked your eyes open, seeing the words sloppily written on the strip. Fishing. You dreaded fishing. As much as you loved to eat the seafood that was brought back each day, you couldn’t stand the task itself. You hated the tedious task of dropping a net or sitting with a pole, waiting for something to happen while the boat that you felt would capsize with ease, swaying with the ocean waves. Add in dealing with the fish, grabbing at their slimy, scaly bodies while they wiggled aimlessly was less than appealing.

Why, of all things, did you have to draw fishing?

You let your thoughts consume you as you dragged your feet towards the beach where the small boat was waiting. With the lack of resources, and a recently lost boat from a hole in the bottom, only two people that could go fishing at the moment. There was a stockpile in the Safe Haven, luckily, but no one wanted to let the supply drop too low too fast. Your thoughts drifted to who you could be paired with. Hopefully it was someone that could manage for you both, that enjoyed fishing more than you. Maybe you would get paired with Gally, or even Aris. They were people that could manage stuff like this.

“Hey Y/N.”

With a screech, you fell forward into the sand, caught off guard at the deep voice before you. The person cursed, rushing forward to help you up. A somewhat tanned, veiny hand extended towards you, appearing in your sight to counter the grainy ground under you that your knees and hands were buried in. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, a blush spreading over your cheeks as you took their hand. But the blush disappeared, your face paling when you realized who it was. Thomas stood before you, helping you to stand to your feet. He gave a toothy smile, staring at you with chocolate hazelnut eyes. The sparkle in his orbs diminished slightly when you slid your hand from his, turning away to brush off your jeans. “Oh, hi Thomas.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled to see me,” he sarcastically bit, tilting his head. You scoffed at him, earning a frown from the man. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked shortly.

Thomas rose a brow, turning and pointing at the small boat that was sitting on the shore, already filled with the various fishing supplies you would need. “I drew fishing today,” he said, turning back to you. “I assume you did too?”

“Great,” you mumbled under your breath, letting out a sigh. Holding up the small paper for him to see, you spoke up, “Yeah. I’m unfortunately fishing today.”

“Unfortunate because you hate fishing?” He asked. You were about to nod in confirmation before he continued. “Or, unfortunate because you’re with me?”

At his harsh statement, you frowned, gaping at the man. You struggled to find the right words for him, mouth opening and closing a few times before you managed to utter one word. “Thomas…”

“Come on,” he cut you off, nodding towards the small boat, giving that same awkward smile as before. “We have fishing to do and I’d rather not get bitched at by Vince later.”

That made you snicker, nodding in agreement. “Same though.”

Before long, you were rowing out into the middle of the ocean, the shoreline disappearing. You struggled to prepare the nets and rods, not wanting to watch Thomas row the boat. You hated to admit, but up close, he was handsome. And with him straining his muscles to row, you could easily see his biceps flexing through his dark blue shirt. The sleeves ended just below his elbow, so you had a clear shot of the veins that protruded along his arms. 

It was a struggle not to watch him, constantly reminding yourself that you didn’t care for the man before you after everything that happened. 

An uncomfortable silence settled between you both when he settled on a spot that seemed to be flourishing with fish. The net was dropped and the rods were cast. You sat in the boat away from each other, staring off into the distance with your backs together, the waiting game upon you. The sun was slowly moving overhead, taunting you with the passage of time. Despite the abundance of fish, nothing seemed to be biting.

Your heart was steadily hammering faster, yet you couldn’t tell if it was because you were sitting alone with Thomas or if it was because every jostle of the boat left you anxious. Thomas seemed to notice your skittish nature behind him, feeling your body jerk and tremble every time the boat would rock more than the last time.

“Are you ok?” he asked, turning to look at you over his shoulder. The second he asked, the boat shook, making you squeal in surprise. 

“Fuck, I’m going to die,” you cried, placing the rod aside and resting your elbows on your knees. Thomas blinked, placing his own rod down so he could turn and stare at you.

“Come again?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m too young to die at sea!” you cried louder. The boat shook again, making you squeak once more. “Fuck, I swear that has got to be a shark. This is something straight out of Jaws!”

“...Jaws?”

“Yeah, you know,” you ranted, turning to face him. “That classic movie about the shark that was terrorizing Amity Beach? They had like… three sequels? It was a massive shark that would come and kill people!”

“I… don’t know.”

“Well, what about 47 Meters Down? Granted, we don’t have a diving cage, but we could basically be surrounded by sharks and we have nowhere to go. We are in the middle of the ocean, Thomas!”

“I don’t know that one either.”

“How could you not know them?” you hollered.

Thomas scoffed. “Well, excuse me for losing my memory while in the maze.”

“But I thought you got some memories back from that… that one thing.” You faintly remember hearing about that from your friends. 

“I remembered stuff about WICKED. Doesn’t mean I remember your shitty movies!” he snapped. 

You growled at him. “God, why are you such an asshole?”

“Why are you such a bitch?” he huffed.

“Thanks for the compliment. I know I’m a babe in total control of herself,” was your smug response, flashing him a smirk. Thomas rolled his eyes, turning away from you. 

“God, why did I have to get stuck with you?” he grumbled. 

“Because I’m obviously amazing,” you told him, turning to stare at the horizon.

“Fuck you.”

“You would like that.”

You expect him to retort, but he said nothing. You blinked in confusion, turning back to him. He wasn’t facing you, so you only got the backside of his head. Your face fell, a sorrowful thump in your chest making it ache. For some reason, you felt bad for his silence, afraid you had done something wrong. It felt as though his mood dropped, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Instead of asking though, you turned and picked up the rod, hoping something would bite soon. 

“You know,” he spoke up suddenly, making you jump. “I know you don’t like me.”

Shocked, you turned to him, only to find he still wasn’t facing you. “What? Thomas, no. I don’t-”

“I understand though,” he murmured. “You were happy with the Right Arm before we came. And then within one day, everything you knew and loved was lost. You lost those who practically raised you, like Mary. And it’s all my fault.”

“Thomas…”

“I’ve been trying to make amends for what happened. I know I can’t change what happened, but I wanted to apologize. And you’re the last person I need to apologize to for what happened. I really fucked up that day and I feel bad that I caused so many problems. But you never give me the chance to apologize to you because you are always ignoring me.”

You stared down at your feet, guilt washing over you. This entire time, you had scrutinized him for what he had done and what had happened, judging him for things of his past. You never took the chance to learn who he was and understand how he was feeling. You sighed softly, shifting in your seat, letting silence befall you again.

The boat shook, making you gasp, grasping at the edges of the boat. “Oh my god. What the fuck was that?”

Thomas chuckled. “It was just the waves, Y/N. Calm down.”

“If I get eaten by a shark-” The boat shook more, making you both stumble slightly in the uneven waves. “Oh my god. It’s Jaws!”

“There is no Jaws!”

“I’m too young to die at sea! Why did I have to get ‘fishing’? If I was going to die, why couldn’t I, oh I don’t know, follow the butterflies?” you bellowed. “Fuck, I hate the ocean. Nothing good ever happens out here.”

“Y/N-”

“Is it Jaws?!” 

Thomas turned quickly in his seat, just as you turned to face him, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Hold on!”

Your eyes widened, feeling the boat shake and shift, being tossed around as the water around you grew aggressive. Your skin paled, barely managing to take a gulp of air before the large wave that was hurtling towards you crashed into the boat, sending you and Thomas toppling into the dark ocean. The waves pushed you around, Thomas barely able to keep his grasp on you.  

Your head was spinning.

Your eyes were blurry and unfocused, burning from the salt water.

Your throat ached, wanting to breathe air that wasn’t present as you struggled to figure out which way was up.

Your vision slowly blurred, going black before long, suffocating on the water around you.

~

A burst of air filled your lungs, your body retching to rid itself of water. You were turned on your side as the water escaped, low heaves and coughs leaving you. When you managed to catch your breath, breathing normally, you flopped back onto your back, staring up at the blue sky. Blinking a few times, you tried to remember what happened.

“Are you ok?” Thomas spoke beside you.

That’s when it hit. You turned to him, eyes slowly widening. You jumped to your feet, stumbling around to look at your surroundings. There was a forest on one side, and the ocean on the other. Wood from the destroyed boat was still washing onto the shore, some of your belongings that managed to survive were scattered in the sand. Nothing was in sight around you - no Safe Haven close to return to.  

You glanced down at Thomas, taking note of his dripping wet locks that stuck to his forehead. His shirt and pants clung to his limbs, making his chest and arms stick out more, accentuating the thick thighs you never took the time to notice. Sand stuck to his wet skin, but he didn’t seem fazed by the grainy substance. He was panting, slouched in the sand before where you form once laid.

“Be careful,” he called. “Don’t rush too fast. You just woke up from nearly drowning.”

“Where are we?” you asked. 

“I don’t know,” he hummed lowly. “When I finally managed to get us to the surface, this is where we had ended up.”

“So, are you trying to say,” you choked, crouching down into a ball. “That we are stranded?”

“I think so.”

“I’m stranded here with you?” Thomas nodded. You groaned, taking a handful of sand and throwing it away from you both. “Fuck!”

“Y/N, calm down-”

You didn’t listen, rushing to the edge of the water. The waves splashed around your already wet feet, your shoes sinking into the wet sand. “Hello?” you called loudly, cupping your mouth to amplify your voice. “Can anyone hear me? Help! We are stuck out here!”

“Hey, hey. Stop that,” Thomas called, standing from his seat and making his way towards you. He took your hands as you continued to scream into the abyss, turning you to face him. “Stop screaming like that.”

“No, leave me alone! I’m not going to die here with you!”

“Y/N, stop!” he called, holding you struggling form tighter. You eased into him when he raised his voice. “That’s not going to help. You’re just going to wear yourself out faster that way.”

“But-”

“If you continue to scream, you will just make yourself tired and thirsty. And the last thing we need is for you to be dehydrated. You will die faster if that’s the case.” You swallowed thickly, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. “We need to focus on finding food, water and shelter. Then we can figure out how to get home. We need to make sure we are safe first.”

“But, how?” you sniffled, fear finally kicking in. “I can barely fish.”

“Don’t worry about it. I will handle it,” he whispered, pushing your wet hair back. He grimaced when he felt grains of sand interlaced in your strands, but kept a smile on his face. “Just make sure to keep up, alright smallfry?”

You huffed when he turned away, moving to gather some of the supplies that survived. “I’m not a smallfry, you tree!” you called out to him, chasing after the man.

You managed to gather some emergency supplies that had been luckily sealed to keep from getting wet, giving you a blanket, flint for a fire, and a small knife. It wasn’t much, but it was all Thomas needed before he ventured into the jungle. Though, it wasn’t before you had convinced him to let you spell out an SOS in the sand with rather heavy rocks you found along the coast. 

Trekking through the dense jungle, soaked from head to toe in salt water, the humidity piercing the air until your skin stuck more than before, and exhaustion beginning to set into your limbs, was the last thing you had thought would happen when you awoke that morning. Let alone you were with Thomas of all people. 

On one hand, if you were going to be stuck with anyone, Thomas was a prime candidate. He had survived the Maze and the Scorch, he was fit and able to hunt for food if needed, and he'd carry you with ease if you suddenly fell flat on your face after tripping over the many tree roots that seemed to wrap themselves around your ankles, tugging at your despair.  On the other hand, it was Thomas. The traitor, the ex-WICKED member, the know it all.

You frowned at the thought, glancing up to stare at the back of his head, watching the brown tuft of hair flowing in the breeze that skated by. His shirt stuck to his form with sea water and sweat, his arms effortlessly flexing whenever he pushed aside branches, leaves and bushes. Your mind raced back to the discussion on the boat and Thomas’ plea for forgiveness echoing in your ears. Our stomach clenched with the familiar sense of guilt you had before the tsunami-like wave capsized your tiny haven. 

Maybe you had judged him too quickly after all. He was making advances to move on and seek retribution for everything. You were stuck in the past, unwilling to forgive what happened to friends back then.

Maybe it was time to start moving on...

Though, that thought didn’t change that you were stuck alone on this uninhabited island with him. Alone with a fairly attractive man...

Shaking your head quickly to rid yourself of the indecent thoughts, your cheeks flaring up, you hustled forward to join his side. The silence between you was unnerving, the only sound around being your rapid heartbeat that seemed to speed up when you sideways glanced at his face. Unconsciously, you found yourself counting the moles that starred his jawline.

No, stop. What are you doing?

“So, uh,” you cleared your throat speaking up, trying to distract yourself from the plague that kept entering your mind. “What is the plan?”

“We should find water and shelter,” he voiced, cut off by the loud growl of your stomach. Your cheeks lit up, not only due to the embarrassment caused by the protests of hunger your body let out, but also the flips your stomach did at the sound of his deep, but melodic laughter. His dark eyes darted to you, a goofy, lopsided grin inching his cheeks upright. “And food too, I guess. We need fresh water and shelter first and foremost though.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to find that?” you questioned, jumping over a rock and nearly faceplanting. Thomas caught you swiftly, adding more heat to your already warm face. Uttering a low thank you, you continued after him, afraid to speak more. 

“Well, I guess we should try to listen for some water. If we can find a stream or river, we can probably follow it for a bit.”

“You mean like that?”

You spied a small stream beyond a set of trees, Thomas’ face lighting up at the sight. “Exactly! Let’s go!”

You laughed at his excitement, though you missed the soft smile Thomas gave hearing you laugh the way you did. He rushed towards the stream of water with you hot on his heel, following the water flowing down the island. A more comfortable silence fell between you this time, making your way through the jungle together.

“Eureka!” Thomas finally exclaimed, dashing away from you.

“H-hey! Don’t just leave me alone you asshole! Or I will never forgive you!”

“Story of my life,” was his snarky reply, but the joking words made your heart clench while wincing to yourself. He wasn’t wrong, but it stung to hear it so bluntly. “Now, hurry up and get over here!”

A silent sigh left your lips before rushing after him, stumbling to a stop at his side in awe. A small lake was at the end of the stream you were following, the water sparkling with the sun's rays glaring down at it. A small waterfall stood in the distance, white foam coating the base, rippling waves making the water glisten and shimmer. You stared in awe at the sight, gawking at the beauty.

“Yahoo!” Thomas screamed before diving straight into the water, belongings dropped carelessly to the ground, making you gasp in shock. Dots of cold water sprinkled along your face, causing you to shrink back in surprise and yelp loudly. 

“Thomas!” You screamed at him when he resurfaced, kicking his legs to stay afloat. The man pushed back his dark tresses of hair, wiping the water away from his face. He didn’t care that he was fully clothed, fabric clinging to his muscled form. He was content laying back in the water, eyes glued to the blue sky.

“This is nice.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scowled.

His heavenly laugh resounded through the air, your stomach knotting at the noise. Your eyes followed the man as he flipped in the water, diving into the water again before swimming to the other edge near the waterfall. A tired heave escaped as you sat in the nearby grass, sliding off your wet shoes and socks and slipping your aching, waterlogged feet into the lake. The cool water felt refreshing, a sense of calm hitting you almost instantly. You leaned back on your hands, allowing yourself to unwind for the first time since you awoke on the sandy beach. 

“Hey!” Thomas called, making you crack an eye in his direction. He was waving at you from afar, standing at the edge of the waterfall. He pointed towards the falling rapids, calling out, “There is a small cave back here! I think we can use this as shelter!”

“Are you sure?” You hollered back. Thomas nodded, diving into the water and swimming towards you. When he arrived, he stayed in the water, resting on the edge of the lake on his arms. 

“Yeah. It’s small, but I think it'll do. It’s dry enough for us to have a fire but it’ll keep any animals out.”

“If I die tonight because you are wrong and some animal mauls me while I sleep, I am coming back to haunt you.”

Thomas grinned, lifting himself out of the water to grab the gear he dropped. The water made his pants sag, exposing the elastic of the dark boxers he had on. You blushed and turned away, listening to him rummage around in the waterproof bag of emergency goods. 

“I’m going to try and gather some food from the trees. Do you think you can gather some wood for a fire? We can use the bag and tarp that was inside to keep it dry when we head in,” he suggested, tossing both in your direction. 

“I guess. But let me rest for a bit longer please,” you hummed, turning to look at him. Thomas nodded at your words, pocketing a knife set. Turning was a bad decision - Thomas at that moment was stripping off his wet shirt, giving you full display of his toned upper torso, complete with check hair and happy trail dipping into his waistband. His broad shoulders and arms flexed as he stretched, folding the shirt and placing it down with the spare belongings in the bag. His long legs carried him towards some trees with mysterious fruit hiding in the tops, your eyes tracing the back muscles you didn’t know you needed until now.

The man proceeded to climb the tree carefully, trying not to slip too much from his wet pants. Watching him pull himself up, arms bulging and veins prominent along his skin even from a distance, made your body heat up, legs rubbing together slightly. The attractive man left your mind reeling. A shaky breath left your lips, your head turning away quickly.

What the fuck? You thought to yourself, staring at your reflection. Since when did I think of Thomas as attractive?

The soft thunk of fruits being cut down from the tree made your ears ring, eyes darting to stare at the man in the tree before returning to the water. You saw how red your face was.

I thought I hated him. I thought I despised him. But ever since he said he’s been trying to apologize for what happened, I can’t help but think… You groaned, ruffling your knotted hair. Have I just always found him attractive but chose to ignore it because I was irrationally angry at him?

“Aw fuck,” you heard Thomas groan when he fell on his ass while descend the tree. The man stood from the ground, rubbing his sore buttox before moving to the next tree, repeating his attempts to gather food. You giggled to yourself, tucking some loose hair away.

“Maybe I have been too harsh on him,” you sighed to yourself, feeling your heartbeat picking up. “Maybe it’s time to move on and forgive him.That fucking attractive asshole.”

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable! Help a brotha out!” he joking called before jumping onto another tree ungracefully, shimmying up the trunk slowly.

“I know, asshole!” 

Hesitantly, you pulled yourself from the ground, grumbling lowly at yourself as you dragged the supplies to the small cave before heading off to find sticks. The entire time you gathered the broken twigs and branches that littered across the ground, your eyes kept lingering on the broad, muscular form in the distance. Setting your eyes on his form made your heart race, face heating up from something other than the setting sun in the distance. You ached, but not from the strenuous task of obtaining firewood for warmth that night. As you crouched for wood, your legs rubbed together to relieve the throbbing sensation that racked your lower body. Your mind was plagued with him - how you never noticed his beautiful or funny personality through your initial judgment. Deep down, you knew he was hot… but it didn’t strike until now just how much you really liked him.

And being stuck with him, seeing how much he cared, only deepened the feeling. Rapidly, at that. You were smitten in a matter of hours, putting aside your hatred to see the real side of the man.

When you walked into the cave, it was silent. Thomas said nothing, busy setting up the blanket so you had a somewhat comfortable place to rest until help, hopefully, arrived. You pouted, a sudden overwhelming sense of doubt hitting you. Though he never showed it, insecurity struck, suggesting to you that he was actually uncomfortable with the situation - that he actually was upset that you had resented him for so long. Despite his attempted apology in the smash boat, he really was unhappy that you wouldn’t accept him.

And here you were, pining over the man suddenly as a new light was making his presence glow in the darkness, giving you some hope, security and a very flushed face at the simplest thoughts. How the tables turned in your mind.

The sun was nearly gone, giving the sky a faint, blue glow, the remnants of pinks and oranges fading into black. Thomas quietly started a fire, the crackling embers flaring up after a few harsh breaths from the man to fan the flames. Both of you settled onto the blanket, nibbling on the fruits he had gathered. A decent gap was between you, your butt at the edge of the blanket just like his. 

Listening to the crackle of the fire made your mind race with uneasy thoughts. Occasionally, as you bit into the mysterious, but sweet food, you would glance at the man beside you, finding his eyes glued to the fire before you. Eyes traced his side profile, heating up as you admired his sharp jawline speckled in freckles and moles, bits of scruff forming on his chin. 

He hadn’t shaved recently.

Your stomach fluttered, knotting tightly with delight and discomfort. He was handsome, something you would have never admitted before today, but the cold shoulder was killing you. Your mouth was dry, tongue darting out in an attempt to relieve the crackling feeling with no result. Your heart pounded against your chest before turning away, tugging your lip between your teeth to nibble at unconsciously. 

Now that you were ready to forgive him, this new feeling was taking over. You really liked him, and you wanted to get to know him more. You were tired of judging him for what happened. You had the wrong perception of him. But, you had to make things right. 

“Thomas,” you croaked. The man turned his head; you could feel his chocolate colored eyes on the side of your head, trying to pierce you. The words didn’t want to come out when you opened your mouth, unsure what you wanted to say or ask. You finally managed after a handful of attempts to utter one line: “Do you hate me?”

“What?” he asked, more to himself than to you. When you glanced at him, he was shocked, gawking in your direction. The leg he had tucked into him as he ate was extended, body turned to face you better. 

“I just,” you started, twiddling your fingers together. “I’ve been so hard on you since we got to the safe haven. I hated you because of what happened with the Right Arm. But I never gave you a chance to make amends for that. I know you didn’t deserve the treatment I gave you, but I did it anyway, believing that you were this cocky know-it-all for being the savior that took down WICKED. And, I’m sorry for that. 

“I shouldn't have judged you so prematurely. I shouldn’t have shunned you or pushed you away when all you wanted was to be friends, to make up for what happened because I get it; you feel guilty for what happened. You blame yourself when you shouldn’t. It wasn’t even your fault when you think about it. And now… we’re stuck here and I just… I keep feeling like because of how poorly I’ve treated you that you hate me now. I’ve done you wrong and you have no reason to treat me kindly. Sure, survival is one thing but… I’m sure you hate me.”

“I could never,” he voiced without a thought, startling you. 

Staring up at him, you whispered, “What?”

“I could never hate you,” he hummed, returning to hugging a knee to his chest. “Quite the opposite really.”

“I’m not following.”

Thomas chuckled, continuing, “You were the one I wanted to apologize to the most because of how much I liked you. I’ve…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had a massive crush on you for the longest time. You’re the smartest, strongest and most beautiful woman in the safe haven to me. I couldn’t but to develop a small… well, a massive crush on you. And I wanted to ask you to give me a chance, but you would always walk away when I got the courage to talk to you. I knew I had hurt you but I wanted to try. So, yeah. I could never hate you.”

It was your turn to gawk at him. Your cheeks burned, staring at the handsome man in shock. Your mouth opened and closed, unable to say anything for the longest time. And when you finally managed to say anything, you only could say, “I’m going to take a bath!”

Thomas laughed when he watched you rush out, jumping into the shallow water just outside the cave fully clothed. Collapsing onto a rock, water coming up to your waist, you huffed, burrowing your face in your palms. 

“God, I’m stupid. He fucking likes me too. He has a crush on me. And here I’m starting to crush on him. What did I fucking run?!”

Sighing, you peeled the wet shirt over your head, struggling to strip yourself of your pants. Since you were already in the water, you figured you should at least wash up the best you could, choosing to scrub your tattered clothes a bit to rid them of dirt and grime. The wet clothes, after you were done, we placed aside, allowing you to sink further into the water. A content breath left your lips, looking up at the stars that made the sky glow. 

“So, you like me too?”

You jumped, turning around with arms crossed over your chest to hide your almost bare chest. The cocky male sat at the base of the cave, still shirtless from his earlier excursion. 

“Can you not?!” you screamed, splashing water in his direction.

“Sorry, sorry,” he teased. “I initially came to check on you after you ran off, and you’ve been out here for a bit. Wanted to make sure something didn’t eat you.”

“I appreciate the concern, but can you not stare at my chest?” you grumbled, noticing his stare at the water, right where your hands were. “And what gave you the impression that I like you too?”

“You know I could hear you, right?” You blushed, sinking further into the water. “Listen, I’m glad you are starting to like me too. But I will leave you be. I will let you tell me when you’re ready. I’m honestly just... “ He stopped for a second. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me anymore.”

“I don’t think I ever really hated you,” you admitted to him. “I was just blind to how much I really did like you. I never took the time to notice how handsome, smart and funny you are. I lied to myself that I didn’t like you when I’m pretty sure I liked you a hell of a lot.”

“You know, being stranded on this island sucks,” he hummed playfully. “But, I’m glad I’m here with you. It really is something special.”

“Thomas.”

“I will leave you be to clean up. I shouldn’t bother you. But please give me a holler if you need me or something happens.”

He stood to leave, turning his back to retreat into your small dominion for the night. He didn’t hear the water splash as you rushed to the edge of the water, not caring to shield yourself as you called out to him again.

“Thomas!”

Slowly, he turned back to you, a red hot blush clearly appearing on his skin despite the darkness. “Yes?”

You were silent for a second before speaking up, “do you want to take a bath with me? You know, clean up and maybe wash your clothes?”

He chuckled, contemplating for a moment before letting his feelings cave over his rational thoughts. He turned around briskly, rushing to join you in the water. His jump into the shallow water, albeit not a big one, was enough to make the water splash against you, Thomas earning a squeal of surprise. He grinned, falling back into the water so he could float among the small waves so he could pull his pants off. 

You blushed, moving to sink into further water, deep enough to hide yourself but to not have to tread water. You avoid his eyes, keeping your eyes on the rippling waves, listening to the patter of the waterfall behind you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the wet slap of his pants on rock and felt his warm presence against your back at you became hyper aware of him standing right behind you. You could feel his hot breath fan against your neck as he pushed your wet locks aside, draping them over one shoulder. 

“Is this fine?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to go fast. I don’t want to scare you away, but I can’t keep myself away. I should have just walked away, but I can’t when you’re so close. You said you like me too and I’ve wanted this for so long. So please, if you don’t want this, tell me now.”

“Tommy,” you breathed. The name made his breath hitch - something you caught instantly. His body stiffened against yours, his breathing picking up. Your heart was beating just as fast as his was, though you couldn’t pick up on the rapid pounding in his chest. 

“Please. If I’ve gone too far, tell me. Because if you don’t stop me, I don’t know what I will do. I’m a hormonal guy, Y/N. And I’m stranded on an island alone with the most beautiful girl int eh world. The girl I’ve admired for too long. I don’t want to hurt-”

You turned quickly, cupping his cheeks in your hands and pulling him into a rough, sloppy kiss to silence him. The man’s muffled grunts were lost to your lips, his body instantly reacting to yours. He pushed closer to you, his erection obvious against your leg. His hands wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his muscled chest, wet pecs flexing anxiously with the jump in his heartbeat. Your fingers curled against his cheeks before pulling away, grinning cheekily.

“You talk to much. Maybe I should have just continued hating you.”

“Nope. This is better.”

His lips crashed back onto yours after his hasty response, tilting his head to give him as much room as possible to engulf your lips with his. Your hands eagerly slid up to his wet chocolate tresses, tangling in them to scrape at his scalp. His hands ran along your waist until he found your ass, lifting you up against him so your legs could wrap around his midsection. Things escalated quickly, heat building with the sensual kiss.

And you weren’t arguing right now.

He backed you into the shallowest part of the water, placing you down to focus on the heated kiss. His tongue darted along your plump lips until they parted, automatically shoving past them to enter your wet cavern. Tongues battled for dominance, something you easily lost. His tongue ran along your mouth, tracing every inch of it before pulling away for air, a short string of saliva still connecting your lips. 

Your chests rose and fell quickly for air before instantly delving in for more open mouth kisses. Lips dragged against each other, wet smacks mixing with the rushing water beside you. Noses bumped whenever your heads turned to get a better position, teeth clashing with every heated crash. His lips dragged along yours, sucking them teasingly before devouring them again and again.

Your hands slid down from his hair, landing on his broad shoulder first before running down his chest. Your fingers skimming along his skin made him shiver, pecs jumping under your sultry touch. His arms flexed, more veins emerging from his skin as he got excited. When your thumbs brushed against his nipples, he shuddered, breaking the kiss to let out a gasping moan.

“Don’t do that,” he rasped, a glint in the glare he sent you.

“Oh. Are your nipples sensitive, Tommy?” you cooed, smirking up at the man. A deeper groan left his lips, his face burrowing in your neck. Tiny nips and kisses were left on your skin, Thomas earning himself a moan.

“I hate that you started using that name so quickly,” he uttered deeply. “It’s making it really hard to control myself.”

“Who said you needed to control yourself?” you spoke without warning. Thomas groaned once more, hands fussing with the bra strap against your back. 

The article was nearly ripped from your skin and tossed aside, lost to the lake as it drifted away in the water. His eyes were dark, near animalistic, like he was staring at his prey right before he pounced. You weren’t telling him no; you were encouraging the hungry tiger inside. He intended to take advantage of that, even if his mind told him not to. His body spoke louder. His hunger made him salivate, taking in the sight of your bare torso before lunging. 

His head dipped down, latching onto your breast instantly. Your head fell back, unleashing a loud moan at the pleasure. His mouth wrapped around your hard bud, tongue flicking at it happily. His large, veiny hand grasped the other one, fondling it fiercely, between his long fingers. Even if you told yourself you didn’t want this, your body screamed that you did. Even if you told yourself you didn’t want to be stuck with Thomas, you were glad it was him. Even if you told yourself you didn’t like him, you knew for a fact you did.

What he was doing felt phenomenal, and you wouldn’t change that for the world right then and there.

Thomas pulled away with a pop, sucking red marks along the skin of your mounds before resuming his licking barrage on the nipple, grunting against it happily. More moans left your lips, fingers tangling in his hair to keep yourself together, giving you something to tug at while you were pleasured. Your legs rubbed together, feeling heat pooling between them the more he attacked your chest, suckling at your nipple repeatedly. When he finally switched breasts, you lost control, nearly shouting his name into the night sky.

“Oh, fuck, Thomas!” you mewled, pressing his face further into your chest. “That feels so good.”

“Shit,” he choked, prying himself from your grasp to move up to your level. His body sliding against yours allowed you to feel the obvious bulge in his boxers, your core twitching as a result. “If you keep that up, I’m going to have to fuck you senseless. You have no idea how hot that is and how fucking horny I am right now.”

“Then do it,” you let out. “Fucking fuck me already.”

“God damn.”

He didn’t ask twice. He was stripping you of your only remaining garment, tossing them with his own onto the rocks behind you. Your stare turned south to catch a glimpse of his shaft, gawking at the size. “Holy shit,” you gasped. “Is that what I was missing by hating your guts?”

His was long and hard, his hand wrapped around the girthy base to stroke it casually. The tip was swollen and red, beads of precum coming out the tip when he tugged at himself. He was much larger than any other guy you had seen - the few one night stands you managed to have were nothing compared to this. You were silently thanking the world for what had happened, giving you a chance to make things right with Thomas and to get fucked senseless by a god. You were thankful for the realization of your feelings because right now, your pussy was pleading to be filled.

“Should have talked to me sooner. We could have been fucking for a while now,” he teased. “Of course, I wanted you for more than a good lay, but I’m sure I can please you when you need it.”

“Oh? Low blow, cowboy. Sure you can stick to those guns?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

The tip ran along your folds a few times before he pushed in quickly, bottoming out in seconds. A loud, prolonged moan left your mouth, the noise drawn out and making your throat vibrate. Thomas grunted at the feeling of your tight cunt around him, your walls grasping at his hard cock eagerly. His eyes closed, trying to not cum instantly. You were wet and warm, clinging to him intermittently, hugging him tightly. The subtlest shift made you clench, another loud noise filling the air.

Before he started to move, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a chaste kiss before groaning, shifting you against him. “If it gets to be too much, stop me.”

“Alright.”

It started slow, your body bouncing against his. His hands sat on your backside, using your ass as leverage to guide your body against his. His long shaft slid in and out of you slowly, rubbing against your walls and poking at the sensitive spots. Whenever he was nearly freed, you were brought back down onto him, fully sheathing him inside your warmth. 

The speed picked up gradually until you were being slammed onto his thick cock repeatedly, enhancing the pleasure you were feeling. Your moans grew in volume, filling the night air around you. The water splashed against your sides with every diligent thrust into your tight core, aiding Thomas’ thick cock in sliding in and out of you. Nails clawed at his skin, diggin crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders while being bounced, keeping you steady and upright. 

Thomas groaned loudly, the sound of your seductive moans in his ears making him harder than he thought was possible. His chocolate pupils, darkened by lust, traveled south, traveling the features of your face the entire time. Your lips were rosy from the intense kisses you shared, your bright orbs were half-lidded with ecstasy, your cheeks were flushed under the moon that was rearing it face over the trees slowly. When his eyes befell your chest, watching your breasts bounce up and down against his moist chest, the former runner was floored. He had never seen something so wonderful - so attractive. His stomach tightened, hips thrusting faster into you, unleashing a more animalistic nature that had you screaming. 

“Oh, god!” you let out, throwing your head back. Your entire body shook, your knotting stomach flipping a million times a second. Thomas grunted out at your echoed speech, leaning forward to latch onto your breast, after a bit of trouble to keep a steady pace and attack the mound as it jostled aimlessly. One hand found its way to his wet locks, tugging at them harshly. The suckling to your peaked buds made your eyes flash white, the shaking increasing significantly as your high hit. “Oh fuck, Thomas!”

With your walls clenching, your warm cunt hugging him tightly and his cock growing slick with your arousal, his head began to spin. Maybe it was the lack of air; he wasn’t breathing while he bucked into you, nibbling at your breast with all of his might. His thrusts grew sloppy, fighting to control himself while you had your orgasm. When he finally felt your body going limp, he moved forward, resting you on a shallow rock and pulling himself free. 

You blinked your eyes opened, glancing at the dark haired man that no longer occupied your used core. Your pussy throbbed, trying to clench around nothing but air, screaming at its sudden emptiness. Thomas’ eyes were glued on you - all of you - taking in your fucked-out expression, round breasts that were littered with red love marks, and your chest heaving with uneven breaths. His large hand, covered in veins, wrapped around his cock, stroking himself quickly and harshly, pulling the skin of his length over the tip slightly. The man hunched forward slightly, refusing to give in until he was grunting loudly, utter a few curses before releasing himself onto your form.

Thick ropes of his hot seed shot from the tip, dotting up your stomach to your chest, covering your breasts in his white, steamy essence. Bits of water washed the droplets away when it splashed across your body, but he licked his lips at the sight of you covered in his cum, looking hot with the white strings as your form. His unruly noises got louder when you ran your fingers along the few drops that remained, particularly on your breasts, rubbing the thick substance around your taut buds slowly.

“Shit,” he huffed, kneeling on the rock beside you. His lips connected to yours in a searing kiss, your lips instantly parting to allow his tongue to invade your cheeks. Your tongues tangled together messily, noisy open-mouth kisses smacking against each other in haste. Thomas’ hand slithered between your legs, shamelessly shoving two fingers into your sensitive core. The moan that he ripped from your was lost to his throat. His fingers shoved into your pussy quickly, making you writhe under him. 

The kiss broke, allowing your shaking words to escape. “Don’t go so rough.”

“Are you a bit sensitive after you took me?” he asked cheekily, making you laugh slightly.

“I guess you could say that. I think I’m a little overstimulated. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

Thomas blinked, hand stilling. “You’re had sex before?”

Your eyes met, confusion in your eyes. “I mean, of course. I tried dating a guy once after we came to the safe haven, but he was only good for a single lay to relieve some stress from everything,” you revealed. With a giggle, you continued, “Don’t tell me you haven’t had some action since we got here.”

“Oh. I-I mean.. Well, yeah. Who hasn’t?” You didn’t seem convinced, earning a deep sigh from Thomas. His fingers removed themselves from your core, the man sitting on the rock beside you. You sat up yourself, hugging your chest slightly. “I guess if you count the one night stand I had after getting really drunk on Gally’s drink.”

“No way. With who?”

Thomas chuckled at your enthusiasm. “I can’t really remember. She was gone before I woke up in the chicken coop. I think her name was Mandy because after that night, she never talked to me again.”

Your laughter grew louder, leaning on the frowning male. “That’s fucking great.”

“Laugh it up, bitch.”

“I will,” you teased. “But, how come you never tried for more?”

“I mean,” he sighed, looking down at you. “I had my eyes on someone I really liked. But, she didn’t like me back. Wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t look at me. She hated my guts.”

“Well,” you sighed, looking up at him with a joking smile, “she’s lost out. You should forget about her.”

Thomas laughed, leaning down to kiss you softly. His hand, wet and dripping with water, moved up to caress your cheek as his lips dragged against yours slowly. “I think I already am because I have someone amazing with me now.”

Together you sat under the moonlight in the water for a while, cuddling until you felt your feet wrinkling and your body shiver from the cold that was setting in. Thomas exited the water first, lending a hand to help you out afterwards. Gathering your discarded clothes, you hobbled back into the warmth of the cave. While you laid out the clothes to dry, Thomas added more wood to the dying fire, letting it flare back up before you both snuggled together on the blanket, seeking warmth with each other.

You faced him, staring up at his sharp features, fingers dancing along his muscled arms and speckled cheeks. His biceps flexed under your touch, cheeks curling upwards with a smile at the gentle skim of your touch. His own arm was draped over your waist, drawing imaginary shapes to the small of your back. You had never been so comfortable or content in your life, having spent so long running from Cranks or escaping from WICKED in hopes of finding a safe place to live in peace, praying to harmony in your unpredictable life. You frowned at the thought; you had misses so much because of your judgments. 

“I’m still sorry,” you whispered lowly. Thomas hummed, waiting for you to continue. “I’m sorry for everything, Tommy. For shunning you, judging you, mistreating you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s fine, babe,” he mused, kissing your forehead. “I get it. You don’t need to beat yourself up about it.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he laughed. His eyes met yours, giving you a soft smile before leaning in and kissing you on your lips softly. “We just need to move on from here.”

“I guess so.”

“Just give me a chance to show you that I’m a good guy,” he teased, making you laugh. 

“Yeah, if we ever get off this island,” you said. “But, being stranded with you isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

“Are you saying that shipwrecking with me here was going to suck?” he gasped.

“Tommy, I didn’t even want to fish with your ass!”

“But I have a fine ass.”

“Yeah, I know,” you teased, daring to roll onto him, straddling his waist with ease. Your lips connected in a fiery kiss, earning a deep grunt from the former runner. “I watched you climb a tree today. You have a nice behind.”

“So do you,” he rasped lowly, cupping your backside tightly in his palms. The action made you mewl, grinding your hips against his sharply. Your lips connected once more, letting your tongues tease each other. Thomas’ cock was growing hard under you, sliding between your moist pussy lips. The man murmured against your lips after breaking your kiss, “I’m getting horny again.”

“I can’t say I disagree,” you uttered, grinding on him harder, two moans filling your small hideaway. His cock was twitching against your wet core, the hands that remained on your ass helping you rock against him faster. “Fuck, I just want you inside me again.”

“If we do, I can’t promise I will last long… or pull out in time to not cum inside you.”

“That’s fine,” you let out. 

Thomas grinned seductively, teeth twinkling mischievously. “You know, if that happens, there will be a chance you could get pregnant.”

“I know, but I trust you.”

The words made his heart jump slightly. “So, are you saying that you want me to fill you with my cum? You want me to fuck you silly and maybe put a baby inside you?”

“I mean, I will take the fucking me silly, but if a baby comes with it, you’re helping to raise it.”

“Deal,” he gasped.

Within much thought, he was aligning with your core, sliding into you. You moaned at the feeling of him filling you up once more, your pussy full with his giant cock. The tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, as well as new spots he hadn’t hit before. The new position came with a new angle, and the new angle let him reach deeper inside you. He stayed still for a moment before guiding you along his length, rocking you back and forth along his shaft.

You laid against his as you moved along his cock, breasts pressed against his chest. Your lips danced together occasionally, dragging against each other slowly before parting to let our low moans. The subtle smack from the kisses made your heart race and core clench, squeezing around him tightly. They were such loving kisses, but they made your walls tight and wet.

Pushing up on his chest, separating from the multitude of kisses you shared, you picked up speed, riding him quickly. His cock slid in and out of you quickly, your body rising up and slamming back onto him before he could escape your grasp. Your speed gradually built until you were slapping your hips together loudly, sweaty skin sticking together and pulling apart with slick noises. 

Thomas licked his lips, eying your bouncing breasts for a bit before turning to watch his cock slip in and out of you. He was familiar with your breasts moving when he was inside you, but he thoroughly enjoyed the way his cock would emerge covered in your sweet arousal, making his length glisten in the firelight, before it disappeared back inside your tight cunt, throbbing with the need to explode. He wanted to fill you up, spilling every last ounce he had into your hole. He wanted to watch the white seed drip from your lips, oozing out because you were so full of him.

The desire to do so was overwhelming, so much that the man lifted you off of him with a short whine, and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. He found himself ramming back into you from behind, hearing a short scream rip from your throat when he wasted no time in slamming himself into you. He bucked wildly, his speed nearly godly, thrusting himself deep into you. His new speed and position made you scream his name loudly, clawing at the bunched up blankets under you. Your body shifted with every thrust, only kept steady from a firm hand he kept on your hip. The other hand planted firmly to your backside, a reddening handprint pressed into your skin. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he growled, pushing harder. His hips snapped into your ass, balls slapping against your folds. The sounds of slapping skin mixed with the uncontrollable noises that left your mouth in panted breaths, making Thomas grin widely. “You like this, Y/N? You like when I fill you up with my giant fucking cock?”

“Tommy-”

“You love when I fuck you into the ground like this? You just can’t get enough, can you?”

“No,” you managed to utter. “I need more.”

“What was that?” he asked, the hand that had been slapping at your ass occasionally sliding up your back to your neck. He gave it a firm squeeze, hearing a choked breath leave. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you made no effort to remove it, so he figured you were fine. Maybe, you were even enjoying the restriction. “Speak up, baby. I can’t hear you.”

“Fuck, Thomas. Fill me up already! Please!”

“God, you just love being filled up. Such a dirty girl, wanting to be filled up with my cum. You want all of my cum inside you? You want me to fill you up with all of my cum?”

“Yes!” You hollered weakly. Dots were blinking in your vision, your body tightening with your inevitable release. “Please fill me up Tommy. I want to cum with you. I love the feeling of your cock so much, but i want to feel you inside me.”

“Fuck, thats hot,” he muttered, shoving into you faster than before. He pushed up onto his feet, releasing your neck so he could steady you against him. His entire body was used to push into you, every part of his body leveraged to excite you over the top. He wanted to make your next orgasm one to remember. He wanted to have you releasing on his cock more than you thought was possible. He wanted to explode every drop into you. “Cum with me, Y/N. Please baby, cum all over my fucking cock.”

You moaned in response, body nearly going limp from your orgasm. Your stomach hurt from trying to hold back, so you didn’t keep it in. The knot was burned away, and you were spilling everything you had onto his length, making it slick enough to still slide in and out of you as he thrust sloppily. Your walls were clinging to him desperately, convulsing with every droplet you released that stuck to his length.

Your tight, wet cunt made Thomas’ head spin like before, his own high nearly. Your core was hugging him close, squeezing him lifeless. The warmth was making him throb and twitch, finally exploding his load into you with one loud grunting groan. His thick seed shot from the tip, painting along your inner walls like white paint. The former runner let out a prolonged mewl of approval, thrusts slowing, letting your walls milk him of every last bit he had built up. 

Your bodies finally collapsed from exhaustion, Thomas remaining inside you until he had softened to a tiny chub. His fascination led him to watch his arousal slip from your pussy lips, the man licking his lips slowly. 

“That’s something to remember…” he whispered to himself before moving to kiss your shoulder blades. “We should get some rest. Then tomorrow, we can try to find a way off this island and back home.”

He didn’t receive a response.

“Y/N?”

He turned you over, finding you sound asleep, chest rising and falling steadily. You had a gentle smile ebbed onto your lips, resting peacefully. The man chuckled, pushing back some of the hair that stuck to your sweaty forward, placing a sweet, loving kiss to your temple. Laying beside you, he curled you into his chest, struggling to pull the blanket over you to keep you warm in case the fire died out while you slept. His head rested on his sore arm, but he didn’t mind the pain; his comfort came from you beside him, in his arms - finally.

“Sleep well. And thank you for giving me a chance. I didn’t think getting stranded would be such a good thing...”

~

His eyes fluttered open, finding a small stream of sunlight filling the cave. It took a moment to process his surroundings. The fire had died, he was in a cave, and you were nuzzled into his side, bare naked and sound asleep. Thomas thought he was dreaming before recalling the wave and the boat crash, finding you stranded on an unknown island without a way home. He also remember the heated evening of confessions, apologies and sex that blew his mind.

Not in any rush to move, he pulled you into him, nestling his face in the rats nest atop your head. He could feel your lips curling up against his skin at this, the man chuckling. “Good morning,” he let out, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

“Good morning,” you muttered lowly. “Can we not move for a while? I hurt.”

“I’d figure,” he laughed. “I fucked you a lot last night.”

“And honestly?” you hummed. “I regret nothing.”

“That’s relieving actually. I’m glad I won’t have to be punched later to forcing you to have sex with me.”

“Never,” you laughed, struggling to look up at him. Thomas glanced down at your sleepy face, placing a soft peck to your lips. 

“So, you are going to give me a chance later right? Like, when we can finally get home?”

“I thought I made that clear when I apologized for how I’ve been treating you,” you scowled playfully, punching his chest weakly. “And you kind of fucked me a lot. You’re not leaving me dry for a while.”

“I can handle that,” he smirked, pulling you into a deeper kiss.

The steamy kiss would ahve led to a heated round of unruly morning sex if your ears hadn’t perked at the sounds outside the cave. You pulled away from a disappointed Thomas, sitting up abruptly. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked.

Listening carefully, you heard the faint call.

“-Mas!”

“-/N!”

“Someone is calling our names?” you asked, glancing at the man who shrugged. 

“Did someone manage to find us?” he thought aloud.

“Thomas!”

“Y/N!”

“Oh my god,” Thomas gasped, jumping to his feet and rushing to the cave entrance. “That’s Minho!”

“What?!” You exclaimed back, running after the man.

In your excitement, you both ran from the cave in search of the voices calling your names. Thomas’ hand clasped around yours to keep from getting separated, keeping you from falling over any trees or rocks. The voices grew louder as you rushed through the sea of green trees, pushing through bushes and in the mud. 

In the distance, you locked eyes with the boy calling your name - Thomas friend from the maze and the former leader of the runners. Minho’s eyes grew when he saw you both run from the bushed, calling his name. You halted in the middle of a small clearing, panting for breath.

“Thomas, Y/N,” Minho uttered softly before his eyebrows scrunched up. “Why are you guys naked?”

“Eh?” you let out, looking down at yourself. Realizing what had happened, you shrieked loudly, hugging yourself. Thomas turned to hug you, glaring back at Minho.

“Look away!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Minho called, turning around. “I don’t want to stare at your bare ass anyway!”

“Fuck you,” Thomas growled. “How did you find us anyway?”

“We’ve been searching all night. When you didn’t come back, we pulled out the small motorboat to search for you. Someone mentioned the waves had picked up, so we thought something might have happened. We found the boat wrecked on the island-”

“Wait,” you called, stopping him. “There was a motorboat?”

“Yeah,” Minho said. “It’s always in the boat we used to get here. It’s not used very often to conserve fuel and all, but it’s pretty decently sized and everything.”

“We had a motorboat, and you set us out to go fishing on a wooden rowboat?!”

Minho blinked “Ummmm…”

“I’m going to kill you, Minho!”

The former runner took off with you hot on his tail, uncaring that you were still barren to the world. Thomas sighed as he watched you chase the man around the clearing, weaving through trees before tackling the man to the ground, scarring him as you beat him up. 

“I guess I should be thankful,” Thomas told himself. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have ended up stranded here and had the night we did.”

“Thomas, help! Get her off me!”

“Can’t help, sorry,” Thomas called, turning away. “I need to go get our stuff from the cave. Plus, she hates me, remember?”

“Bullshit!”

“Take it easy on him, babe. He’s our way home!” Thomas teased, walking away.

“He dies tonight! I’m roasting Minho alive!”

“Good talk!”

“Thomas, don’t leave me with this monster! Something obviously happened and you can’t leave me like this!” Minho called, but Thomas was gone. “THOMAS!”

I’m not gonna tag anyone right now because my tag list is far too outdated and needs to be refreshed. I will figure that out... later.

[narrators-journal]

Months of comfort

Finally! Soukoku gets a little scenario to wrap up the little trio of valentines/white day related stories!

          "Oi, Dazai," Chuuya called, dropping onto the roof nonchalantly with a dim glow of red, looking over to the brunette who sat on the edge of the building, looking out at the way the city continued to glow in the late hour of the night. "Mori wants me to make sure you aren't high off your ass and thinking you can fly or some shit." Dazai could hear the crunch of the rocks scattered across the roof under Chuuya's shoes before he saw the small redhead out of the corner of his eye, just standing behind the little barrier the ex-mafioso sat on, a small distance from him but also close enough to be able to grab his ex-partner.          "I'm completely sober, promise. I can even walk a perfectly straight line," the brunette chirped, hopping up despite the mafioso snappishly ordering him down and putting one foot in front of the other along the top of the little ledge with a smile. Of course, Dazai couldn't seem to restrain himself. He wobbled on one foot after a few steps, acting as if the little lunch box he held had knocked him off balance somehow or was almost pulling him over the edge to his death. The way Chuuya's face contorted into a mask of concern and irritation made him smile, even as the man snarled and snatched him by the coat and almost threw him roughly onto the roof.           "Why would you do that? You could've fallen for real and I would've just fucking waved," he asked, his ocean blue eyes boiling hatefully as Dazai sat back on the ledge with his little box of food and shrugged,          "It's fun to irritate you," The redhead simply rolled his eyes and flopped down beside the ADA member. After that, they simply sat there together, the brunette munching on his dinner without complaint, his companion watching the lights of the city, still far enough away for it to not be seen as intimate, but close enough to reach the suicidal man. Even when Dazai offered the last part of his dinner, nothing was said as the box changed hands, it wasn't until Chuuya found the little bag of candies stashed inside that he spoke,           "Why do you have white day candies? Some poor girl fall for your tricks?"           "No, I bought those," the bandaged man hummed nonchalantly, not flinching under the mafioso's narrowed look,           "Why?"            "Well to give them to someone, obviously." His snort only earned him a harsher look, but for a moment the conversation lapsed back into silence, the wheels in the temperamental executive's head almost audible before it clicked into place,            "Osamu, why didn't you take these out before handing this to me?" Instead of answering right away, Dazai stretched and yawned, relishing the suspicion in Chuuya's sapphire eyes for a moment,            "Well, you gave me a valentines gift, so I thought I should give you a little gift in return," he reasoned, getting smacked upside the head in response,           "The only time I gave you a valentines gift was almost six years ago, you son of a bitch!" The brunette shrugged.            "If you don't want them, I can take them back," he offered, holding his hand out for the small baggy of treats that the mafioso was seemingly complaining about. For a long, silent stretch, the two simply looked at one another. Dazai was simply smirking, his brown eyes twinkling with a knowing light that earned him a retaliatory glare from the mafioso. However, despite his venomous look, the redhead didn't move to give the treats over. So, with a small, quiet laugh, he was allowed to keep them and Dazai simply returned to watching the city bustling with late night life. It was nice for them. Both just sat there in the darkness, lit from below with the myriad of lights while Chuuya ate the candies. After a while though, Dazai pushed himself up and got to his feet on the ledge, the shorter man's head snapping over to look at him when he moved until he was back on the roof properly,         "Where ya going?" He asked, rummaging back into the bag of sweets as the brunette stretched and yawned,          "I'm gonna head home and go to bed, I'm getting tired," was the simple response he got, so the two separated for the night. Chuuya got up, tossing out the left overs of the dinner he didn't want, Dazai just went home, neither saying anything beyond that.

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Day 16: Just Another Day- Din Djarin

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Spoilers for season 2 episode 3. If you haven’t watched it please do because it’s amazing. Thank you for reading!

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 15: Just Walk Away - Ezra (Prospect) 

You stood looking out amongst the grey sky and the blue of the ocean water. Din stood at your side with the child in his pram. The wind blows cold and deep through your bones and you shiver. Din looks at you and says nothing, only pulling his cape gently to drape over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. His arm resting lightly around your waist. You shiver again, but not from the cold. The cape is warm and rough under your fingers as you drag it more over your shoulders. The child coos as he watches the waves move in a rough dance, each crashing over the other. 

“Stay close to me,” you hear Din whisper next to your ear, “I don’t like the way our ‘friend’ has been eyeing you since the Inn.” 

You look over his shoulder at the Quarren boatmen. None of them are really paying you any attention and you chalk it up to Din being paranoid. Still, you don’t move from his side. 

The Captain comes up on your left holding up some kind of long spear. “You ever see a mamacore eat? ...Quite a site, the child may take an interest.” Din looks down at you before turning his eyes toward the child who does look interested. “Come on over,” the Captain gestures. 

You wordlessly follow, still tucked close to Din’s side. “That’s close enough,” he says, keeping a close watch over the child. 

The quarren uses the spear to hover a net filled with fish over a large opening in the center of the ship. The metal grate creaks loudly as it moves away and you watch waiting for the creature to appear. The child leans over the side of the pram, eager to see. They press a button and the fish fall into the water, and float to the top. 

The water begins to bubble and you watch as tentacles begin to slowly appear up the sides. “She must be hungry, we usually feed her in the early morning. But, we were unable due to being in PORT!” The Captain shouts using the spear to push the pram into the water. 

You watch in horror as a huge monster with sharp teeth swallows the pram, “NO!” Din shouts pushing you backwards and jumping into the water. You are thrown into the waiting arms of one of the crew who holds you back. 

“Close it!! GO GO GO!” The Captain shouts, and you scream at him to stop. Your voice going hoarse from your cries. The crew members arms are tight around your own, as you thrash trying to get free. 

“NO! PLEASE! LET HIM GO!” you scream. 

“This beskar is ours! And this little bitch will catch us a high price.” the Captain lets out a chuckle peering down for a sign of the Mandalorian. 

Din surfaces and gasps for air against the metal grate hands holding tight to the bars, coughing furiously. You never stop fighting, kicking, punching doing everything you can to get free. 

“Drown him! Keep him down!” they shout, using their long spears to push your Mandalorian down into the water. He slips beneath the surface and they just watch, laughing.

“MANDO! NO!” You break free for a moment before a hand grabs your hair pulling you back making you scream in pain.

“Shut her up!” one of them shouts and a disgusting brown cloth is pushed into your mouth and tied tight as two more quarrens hold you down. Your eyesight is blurred from tears, your body sore from fighting, and your heart shattered watching your loved ones killed before you. 

The water breaks again as Mando resurfaces, coughing loudly and they shove their spears at him again. The sounds of metal hitting beskar and the thrashing of the water is drowned out as the blood pounds in your ear. You can feel the fabric tighten bruising around your wrists as you're restrained. 

“He didn’t sink!” 

“Finish him!” 

“Keep him down!” 

You never stop thrashing against your captors, screaming through the gag for Din and the child. 

Whoosh

Your eyes break from the water to look up as three mandalorians descend upon the ship. Dispatching with the quarrens quickly. The sounds of gunfire, grunts, and metal slicing through flesh. Your eyes are frantic as you crawl on your knees to the grate, screaming for Din. The sound of the grate slowly being pulled back has you leaning over the side precariously. Desperately searching for Din and the child. 

“Take my hand,” one of the others says and you watch with bated breath as Din is pulled from the water. You sob as he is gently lowered to a crate. 

He coughs, the water expelling from his lungs, “There's...a creature. It has the child!” 

“On it,” one shouts, diving back into the water. 

The third Mandalorian comes to your side using a large knife to cut through your bindings, you rip the gag from your mouth and stand on shaky legs, running over to Din. “The child,” he begs, “Help the child.” 

“Don’t worry brother, we’ve got this,” The mandalorian tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

When he’s within reach you drop to your knees before him checking him over as best you can. His gloved hand comes to rest on your arm pulling you to his side silently. When you're satisfied he’s okay, you watch with bated breath for any sign of the Child. 

There is a flash of light beneath the water, and you hear the roar of the creature below. The Mandalorian breaks through the surface of the water holding a crushed pram in their hands. You gasp before they land gently placing the pram on the ground and ripping away the top. Handing the Child to Din carefully. 

You look down at the child held preciously in his left arm as he tightens his grip around you. Your clan of three reunited. His breath still comes out in pants as he tries to return his breathing to normal. “I have been searching for others of our kind,” he looks before the three mandalorians, “I’ve been quested to deliver this child...I was hoping that y- '' His voice cuts off as the three remove their helmets. 

His grip on you loosens as he places the child in your arms and pushes you both behind him. “Where did you get that armor?” his tone is threatening. 

“This armor has been in my family for three generations,” the woman asks confused. 

“You do not cover your face. You are not mandalorian.” 

The others look between each other before the man speaks up, “He’s one of them.” 

“Dank farrick,” she looks at him before going back to Din, “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. I was born on Mandalore and fought in the purge. I am the last of my line. And you...you are a child of the watch.” 

“The watch?” he whispers. 

“Children of the watch are a group of religious zealots who broke away from Mandalorian society. Their goal was to re-establish the ancient way.” She looks between you and the child, half hidden behind the broad shoulders of Din. 

Din takes a half a step closer and you hold your breath waiting for him to make a move, “There is only one way. The way of the Mandalore,” he turns toward you and reaches for you and the child, wrapping his cloak around you and picking you up bridal style, shooting off into the air. 

You land softly onto the dock and he doesn’t move to lower you. You snuggle closer to him and press your face into his neck breathing deeply. The faint explosion disturbs the peace and you look across the water to see the ship burst into flames. Three lines of smoke from the mandalorians leave the atmosphere. 

Din turns from the scene walking towards the crest. The shipyard is empty as you walk aboard. It doesn’t look any better than when you left it and Din sighs before gently lowering you to the ground. He takes the child from your arms and presses his helmet to his little green head, the child puts his hands gently on the helmet returning the embrace. Din slowly pulls him back and places him in the co-pilot's chair, pulling a small blanket over his body and he falls asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the ordeal. 

You struggle with what to say as the emotions from the day overcome you. You shake lightly before collapsing to the ground. Dins arms are quick to move around you holding you tightly to his beskar covered chest. “I...I could have lost you both today,” you sob, grabbing tightly to him. 

“But, you didn’t mesh’la we’re alright.” His touch grounds you and you hold him tightly, he lets out a small chuckle, “It was just another day…” 

“How can you say that? The child was eaten, you almost drowned! They were going to sell me…” 

“What?” his voice comes out low and deadly. 

“The quarren...they said they could get a fair price for me...they wanted to sell me Din,” you tell him quietly. 

His arm tightens around your waist before he is pulling away. You miss the warmth immediately and silent tears stream down your face. You watch as he carefully removes his gloves, each piece of armor joining him until he is left only in his undershirt and pants. His clothes are still dripping wet. 

“Din…you need to change clothes, you’ll catch a cold,” you mindlessly begin pulling on the fabric. 

“I’m alright…” he gently holds your wrist, “Come, we both could use some sleep.” 

You look around the cockpit and make your way to the passenger seat when the hand on your wrist tightens, you freeze. Your eyes slowly lift to meet the black visor, “Din…” 

“Lay with me,” his voice is quiet and low. You shiver at the sound before nodding wordlessly. Moving towards him as he lowers himself with a small grunt into the pilots chair. He pulls your hips to him and you straddle his waist, laying your head on his chest. He lowers the chair back as far as it will go and draws patterns across your back. You feel his heart pound in your ear. The warmth, his hands guiding over your back, and his heartbeat lures you off to sleep. 

Before the darkness overcomes you hear a whisper against your ear, almost so quiet you don’t hear, “rest well cyare, I’ll always protect you.”

[monsterfuneral]

the summer of 1988 | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Revenge is a dark and dangerous road to go down, especially when the people you seek revenge against are all vampires. 

Words: 4.5k

Warnings/Tags: Kidnapping, surf nazis, child endangerment but no child injury, brief descriptions of torture and injury from torture, blood, weapons, just general violence tbh, angst, swearing, Star says fuck, fluff/comfort at the end

Author’s Note: This took way to long to actually finish but I’m happy that it’s finally here. This is something I’ve been working on since late November/early December thanks to writers block so hopefully it actually turned out okay

REQUESTS OPEN

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

The boardwalk was probably the most quiet you had seen in weeks. There were no exciting shows being hosted on the beach or any new rides to visit, and it being a Monday close to closing hours made it so the boardwalk was a lot less crowded than usual. The only people that you had seen tonight were groups of teenagers that left early on in the night, not risking being caught by their unknowing parents as they broke curfew with their friends. By default though it made business in the record shop sluggish, giving you the opportunity to organize the records that were going to be put on the shelves in the morning. 

You had just sat back down on the stool behind the counter when the bell above the door rang. Your boyfriends and their smallest companion came walking through one by one. Paul was the first to greet you with a flirtatious smile as he leaned over the counter to ask you what you’d suggest he buy. 

You playfully rolled your eyes and said “Yeah, like you have the money.” making Marko and David Chuckle from where they stood behind the other blonde. 

The boys left Laddie in your care while they went off to feed, obviously not wanting to take the young human with them to witness their brutal feeding routine. So you put on a record that Laddie had come to love thanks to Paul, and turned the volume up a little louder than it usually would be during work hours. He sat on your stool swinging his legs back and forth while bopping his head along to the hypnotic guitar solo of ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’. He watched you go through the bins and organize any of the records that had been misplaced throughout the day. Waiting for you to finally clap your hands softly announce that you both were finally free to go. Laddie smiled up at you after you ruffled a hand through his hair and shrugged his overnight bag onto your shoulder. 

The two of you were having a casual conversation about a new comic he had gotten from Sam when a guy approached you. He was an unpleasantly familiar face, a member of the surf Nazi’s that took a liking to coming into the record shop and bothering you on occasion with pathetic attempts at flirting. It was no surprise he singled in on you and started walking up to you with a confident swagger that he certainly would not have if the boys were standing behind you. He was as unpleasant as ever, complimenting your outfit that consisted of an old leather jacket that used to belong to David, ripped jeans, and an old band shirt that had a rip at the collar. You looked at him tiredly and attempted to weave your way out of the conversation but he simply would not budge. Laddie clutched the back of your jacket anxiously, waiting for the intimidating man to finally move on. You had to suppress the eyeroll that threatened to come forth when he started talking about how ‘killer’ the waves were today, his smile big as he gestured out towards the sparkling ocean.

“Listen man,” You started, looking back up at the surf Nazi- Derek you think he said his name was- grabbing Laddie’s hand and gently pushing him further behind you protectively “I really gotta go okay? My friends are waiting for me at the entrance and will totally come looking for me if I don’t go.” You hoped he didn’t call you out on your bullshit. You just wanted to go home and change into something more comfortable and give Laddie some actual food to eat that wasn’t boardwalk cotton candy. 

Just like always when he would come around, you got a disgusting gnawing feeling in your stomach, a feeling that told you to run, run, get the fuck out of there. This time though it felt like it had been cranked up to ten. You anxiously glanced around at the other shops. The walkway you were practically cornered in was entirely empty thanks to the boardwalk getting ready to close down for the night. Laddie reached to tug on your hand silently making you look down. 

Your other hand inched closer and closer to your jacket pocket, where you had a switchblade tucked into just in case something like this were to ever happen. The inevitable moment where you’d have to protect yourself and Laddie from any oncoming danger. The rising tension between your boyfriends and the surf Nazis didn’t exactly help either, not that you could blame them.

“Oh come on babe stay a little longer. Me and my buddies were actually about to go get something to eat, you should join us!” He insisted, his attempt at a sweet smile only seeming more and more sinister the longer you stuck around. 

You frowned and raised a brow before shaking your head “No man, I really do gotta go. I’ve had a long day and I’d really just like to leave, and like I said my friends are waiting for me.” 

He raised his hands up in surrender, his smile not faltering “Hey no problemo. Maybe next time right, honey?” You had to suppress the disgusted shudder at the pet name. He stepped aside with his hands behind his back and let the two of you go, you sighed and brought Laddie closer to your side, continuing your journey to the parking lot a little faster this time. 

Once at your car you unlocked it and opened the back door, dropping the Laddie’s overnight bag onto the messy back seat and shutting the door, the sound echoing through the mostly empty parking lot. 

You heard feet shuffling behind you but brushed it off, assuming it was just Laddie walking to the other side of your car. Until you felt a hand clap down on your shoulder and slam you against the drivers side door. Your cheek was pressed against the cold metal of your car and you shivered when you felt a puff of warm air on your skin. 

“I thought you said your friends were waiting for you?” A harsh voice whispered against the shell of your ear. His body kept you pinned to your car leaving you with very little wiggle room, but you were able to dig through your pocket and fish out your knife, clicking it open and blindly stabbing behind you. His hand came around to try and grab your arm but you were able to knick him in the process, the sharp blade slicing across the top of his hand and then through the skin of his forearm making him yelp in surprise, hissing as he clutched the wounds that now had blood bubbling to the surface.

“You bitch!” He growled, his now bloodied hand burying itself in your hair, pulling your head back and slamming your forehead harshly against your car door, your head gave an instant throb at the assault and black spots dotted your vision. You felt your knees hit the asphalt below, not even realizing you were falling by the time your head was resting on the ground. All you could make out in the haze of your blackening vision was Laddie’s beaten up shoes frantically running to your side of the car, towards the danger. You felt your heart pick up and you wanted to yell at him to stay put but no words came out, a pathetic squeak coming from your parted lips instead. You could hear the faint echo of his voice yelling at you to get up. Your eyes were starting to slip closed. All sound started to fade, the only thing left being a loud never ending ringing as your body felt colder and colder before everything went silent.

---

The smell of blood was thick in the air, dark red staining the sandy shore beneath their feet being the remaining evidence of what had happened just fifteen minutes prior. David flicks the remains of his cigarette into the flames and walks himself over to the water, attempting to clean off the drying blood before it cakes itself in his beard. He took his gloves off and stuffed them into his coat pocket so he could wet his hands and wash the blood from his face. 

“We’re all ready to go.” Dwayne said from behind him, his voice as level and soothing as always, even after feeding. His leather jacket was zipped up, not bothering to clean himself off beyond his face. Unlike Paul and Marko who had taken to splashing each other while attempting to clean the blood from their own faces.

Something was off about tonight, he couldn't place what or how, it was just something. A feeling that’s been gnawing at his senses since he stepped into the record shop to drop Laddie off with you. At first it was barely there, like an itch he couldn’t scratch, but as the night dragged on it was getting harder to ignore. 

David stood from his crouched position and pulled his gloves back over his fingers “Everything’s good?” He asked, not turning away from the water just yet. 

“Whatever’s left will be picked up by the rain that’s rolling in later tonight.” Dwayne answered, staring out at the water with his friend and tilting his head back to look at the moon. It was almost completely full, beaming down on the group as the stars around it sparkled. He side-eyed David, seeing how stiff his body was, the occasional facial twitch as his brows threatened to draw together. They could all feel the shifting in the air, a thickening blanket of unease driving their senses crazy and the brunette could tell David was close to dropping the calm façade. 

“Let’s get out of here already then!” Paul called from where he was standing in the water, itching to finally get to your apartment. 

David gave one last sigh before taking one step backwards from the wave that barely grazed his shoe, finally tearing his eyes away from the water and coaxing himself out of his own head. Dwayne was already turning around and heading over to the line of bikes, trailing just behind the two blondes. With one last look at the fire, David set off with them too, his fingers already inching closer to his pack of cigarettes. 

---

You couldn’t even tell how long you had been tied to this chair, time lost in the pain that pulsed through your entire body. It was hard to focus on anything else other than the loud sound of rushing blood in your ears, almost deafening now that you were left to stew in your pain. Derek had gone off deeper into the warehouse, weaving around the almost endless racks of stolen clothes, beat up chairs that had the stuffing half hanging out of the bottom, a coffee table that had three different ashtrays sat atop it. Next to the ash trays was a picture that had a faded picture of his friends tucked behind the broken glass. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, your mind still reeling at his revelation earlier in the night.

He had slapped down an all too recognizable horror comic, the very same one Sam showed you a few months after Max was killed. Derek’s copy was worn down from constant reading and had sticky notes protruding from the tops of the pages. He angrily told you how he had been out on a beer run one night and came back to the boys throwing his friend’s mauled bodies into the very same bonfire he had lit up not even two hours beforehand. How he was left with no answers until he found ‘Vampires Everywhere!’. 

Your whole body went rigid and cold, an acidic rock forming in your throat as you finally realized that he *knew*, he was all too aware of the boy’s undead status. Derek demanded you tell him the location of the coven’s hideout. When you wouldn’t budge he landed a blow on your jaw,  your cheek, hell even your stomach wasn’t safe from his violent outburst. You were shaking from the pain by the time he was done, his fingernails biting into the skin of your cheeks as he forced you to look into his eyes and he asked once again. 

“Where do those freaks hide out during the day?” 

To which you replied a choked and raspy “Fuck… You.” 

He was finally on his last nerve when he let out a strangled growl, pushing himself away from you, your face being forced to the side with his rough treatment, the force almost sending the old wooden chair you were tied in backwards. He stormed away, the thunk of his boots echoing loudly throughout the warehouse. Growing more and more distant until all you could hear was the radio that had so ironically been playing a Dead Kennedys song. 

You were sent into overdrive, scraping the ropes harshly against a nail that was poking out of the rickety wooden chair he had decided to strap you too. Your shoulders ached from the hours of having your hands tied behind your back, but a little more pain was worth the inevitable escape. So you worked faster, bringing the rope closer to the wood and the nail, your fingernails digging into your palms as the rope started to burn your bare wrists, having hiked up the sleeves to your jacket. 

Once you were finally up from the chair you ran over to the side table looking for something, anything you could use against Derek. You carefully moved the ashtrays and empty beer cans aside, fear gripping your throat so tight that you could hardly breathe. You let out a quiet frustrated sound as you came up short. There was nothing, no other tables, the whole room seemed to just be filled with useless junk, not a single weapon in sight.

You could hear the rope straining, sending your heart into your throat. The adrenaline coursing through you only escalated as you thought of Laddie and where he could possibly be in this place. You hadn’t seen him since being knocked out in the parking lot, but he had to be here. You could feel the rope tearing more and more until it finally gave one last loud snap, your burning wrists rubbed raw and red that ached to move. You grimaced as you urgently began untying the ropes around your ankles.

“Looking for this?”

You whipped around, Derek was standing at the entrance of the clothing rack maze, waving your own knife at you while holding Laddie against him with one arm secured over his chest. Laddie’s finger dug into Derek’s forearm, unable to push him away thanks to the loss of the strength he had as a half vampire. Derek tucked your knife in his back pocket and pulled Laddie closer to him. He shook his head and let out a long sigh, almost like you were a child that had misbehaved.

“I knew I should have tied you up with cords instead, too late now I guess.” He hit the side of his own head lightly with the palm of his hand, a smirk forming on his lips “How silly of me, right?”

You anxiously glanced back and forth from him and Laddie, the pit in your stomach was getting ready to swallow you whole at this point. Laddie looked at you fearfully, quietly muttering your name. You had to stop yourself from stepping closer out of instinct to comfort the child that you had grown so close to in the past year. 

“I thought I’d give you a little more motivation… you know to tell me where your buddies like to hang.” He shifted the wooden stake into his other hand and scratched the side of his head with the sharpened tip, almost as a way to taunt you with his carelessness “You know since you wouldn’t tell me when I was hurting you I just thought why not break out the big guns right?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, lip trembling “He’s just a child! He’s not even a vampire! He has nothing to do with any of this!”

“Oh sure he does! If he’s what gets me my answers then he has everything to do with this.” Derek chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, seemingly indifferent to the situation “I mean I don’t *want* to kill a kid but come on, you’re not really giving me any other choice here baby.” 

The casual usage of the pet name made you want to gag. His eyes were staring you up and down hugging Laddie closer to his body and challenged you with an eye squint, as if saying *”come get him, I dare you.”* 

You watched Derek’s every move, wishing just this once that you *were* a vampire. He dropped the hand that held the wooden stake down to his side, an angrier expression morphing on his features as he steps just a little closer. He was red in the face and a vein was starting to protrude from his neck, the visible anger was a lot scarier now that Laddie was in his arms, a ticking time bomb ready to explode any second. 

“Well?” He asked, tone dark and steady, even with the anger that was so evident “What’ll it be sweet cheeks?” 

Before you could even think up an answer a loud echoing boom sounded throughout the warehouse, making the three of your freeze. One rack of clothes after another was knocked to the ground with a loud clang while the wind whistled in the distance. 

“It’ll be nothing, you fucking piece of shit.” Star growled out, pinning Derek to the concrete ground, the heel of her shoe digging harshly into the thin fabric of his muscle tank top. Her features were sharp and her yellow eyes were narrowed down at the much larger man. She didn’t even flinch when he tried to pry her leg off of him, sputtering under the pressure, unable to breathe. Her strength had definitely maximized since she transitioned to a full vampire with Michael, not so easily thrown around now that she had strength that almost rivaled David’s. So it was safe to say he was going nowhere unless she allowed him to. 

Dwayne and David were the first ones to get to you. Dwayne swept Laddie up into his arms while David examined your bruised features, “You’re gonna be okay.” He said softly, cupping under your chin gently, the leather of his gloves being a welcome coolness against your heated skin. 

“Get them out of here,” Dwayne said to Michael, who was crouched next to Derek.

You could practically see the steaming anger roll off of the curly haired brunette in waves, knowing that over the year of him being a vampire he too had grown close to Laddie and saw him like a little brother who he felt the need to protect. 

“Hope you guys are up for dessert.” David’s voice echoed throughout the warehouse unlike any of the other’s. He looked back at you, and just by how his eyes flashed yellow you knew Derek would probably be in pieces by the time the six of them were done with him. 

They were all livid, and while David and Dwayne were the best at hiding it, Paul was not. He was fuming, practically foaming at the mouth as Marko had to hold him back from pouncing on Derek too early. After all he had threatened the life of their mate, and not only that but a child that was formerly a part of their coven as well, he had crossed all of the lines. Usually in hypothetical situations you had thought of you would always think Marko would be the angriest. But given how protective and clingy Paul could be, how he would practically purr at the mere sight of you, it made sense why he was most visibly angry out of the four of your boyfriends. 

“Michael.” Dwayne said more firmly this time, finally setting Laddie back down onto his feet so he could nudge the other brunette a little too harshly with his foot. Michael glared up at him only for his features to soften when he looked at both you and Laddie. “Go” He didn’t have to say much else to convince Michael. 

“Come on, let’s get you guys the hell out of here.” Michael urged, hoisting Laddie up on his back while you trailed closely behind, carefully walking over the fallen clothing racks. 

The outside of the warehouse was no better than the inside. It was a junkyard of discarded furniture, cars, and who knows what else. Thankfully though it wasn’t cold or windy like it had been the past couple of nights. Instead the humidity was starting to set in, ready for the rain that was coming. Even with the sticky heat, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort now that you were outside, knowing that tonight could have had a much different outcome if the vampires had come any later. 

“I scoped the area out with Marko so there aren’t any other surfers around.” Michael reassured, probably sensing your growing fear of the possibilities. “We won’t be long okay? I promise.” Michael squeezed your shoulder gently before letting Laddie off of his back, “You two stay put.” 

It was nice seeing how much Michael had grown, how caring and protective he had become over the coven. While his relationship with the boys certainly had it’s rocky patches they eventually smoothed out. He was one of them and watching him fly back to the warehouse left you smiling for the first time since Derek had walked up to you on the boardwalk. 

You looked down at Laddie, grabbing his hands gently and sitting both of you down on the grass beneath your feet. He seemed to be fine physically, and you were sure if Michael had smelled blood on him he would have said something. 

Even then you still had to ask “He didn’t hurt you did he?” You gently moved some strands of soft hair from in front of his eyes, trying to get a better look at his face. 

“No… but he hurt you though.” He answered sadly, turning the topic back on you. 

You chuckled quietly, wincing at the pain that still radiated from your stomach “I’ll be fine. Nothing a little Neosporin won’t fix.” Laddie stuck his tongue out at the mere mention of the medical product. All too familiar with it after his countless mishaps falling off of Dwayne’s skateboard or down the cave stares after it rained. 

“Ouch.” He muttered, shaking his head before giggling quietly. You smiled at him, pushing his shoulder gently before ruffling his hair.

---

The cave felt so still. With the events that had happened tonight you weren’t very hopeful when it came to things being business as usual. It wasn’t still in a comfortable way either, it was a restless ‘who’s going to cave and ask the questions first’ suffocating stillness. David was sat smoking in his chair as per usual while the rest of the boys stared around or at you almost like they were waiting to see if you were going to fall apart. Which at this point you weren’t entirely sure if you would or not either. In a way you were surprised how quiet the boys were. No fight sparked, nobody demanded answers from you, just silence accompanied by comforting touches and loving kisses. Even Star and Michael stayed behind, planning on staying for the next few nights just in case. You knew they would be paranoid going back home and leaving Laddie behind, who refused to leave without you. 

Dwayne sat next to you, cleaning the dry blood from your face gently, while Paul clung to your other side remaining mindful of your other bodily injuries. Your hands still shook from the remaining adrenaline and your head was still pounding from the onslaught of abuse you had suffered while with Derek. He had been so insistent on getting to the boys, planning on going down any road he could just to avenge his friends. 

All in all the night had been a complete shitshow. But at least you and Laddie were safe, whether you actually felt so or not was up to you. Tonight had been enough to shake you up for a while, and you knew any other interactions with future surf Nazis would surely bring up some unwanted memories.

Paul squeezed your hand, bringing you closer to his body when Dwayne finally finished cleaning you up. All of the bloodied rags discarded to the side to be taken care of tomorrow.

“What d’you think of me and the boys spending the night in your room.” Paul asked quietly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he strategically caged you in between his legs and against his chest. “So no big bad vamp slayers can get to our girl.” He attempted to tease, but it only served to turn your stomach. 

It truly wasn’t something you had concerned yourself with, or thought anything of. Derek’s incessant visits to the record store had been short from unusual, if anything he was considered a regular right under the boy’s. But it wasn’t until tonight that you realized it was for a much deeper and sinister purpose, and it terrified you. He had talked in detail about how he had stalked you and your schedule for months, watching your every move on the boardwalk up until tonight. All of this just to get a shot at the boys, a shot he *knew* he would miss.

Plus you hated the idea of going to the boys over every little thing. You were a big girl who can handle her own business and you didn’t think it was something that concerned them. You didn’t want to rely on them for everything, that wasn’t something you ever wanted. If there was something you needed to take care of alone you were willing to do it, but with Derek’s extensive observation you had no chance of winning against him alone. 

“Hey…” Dwayne muttered, fingers brushing gently under your chin to lift your head up “This isn’t your fault. You know that right?” 

You nodded, not knowing how to respond verbally. His eyes were soft and understanding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips before bringing your legs over his lap and scooting closer to both you and Paul. They didn’t want to leave you alone tonight, knowing you needed all the reassurance as possible right now. Especially with so much guilt weighing on your shoulders, you felt like you were seconds away from cracking. But the closer they got the less suffocated you felt. At this moment, you felt at home.

[shreddedparchment]

Absence Makes the Heart

04/17/2020

Pairing: Superman x Reader          Word Count: 5,431

Warnings: language, lots of language, violence, blood, wounds, injuries, plenty of angst

DCEU Canon

A/N: I’ve been meaning to write this one down for a while. It’s based on a dream I had but I just went and added details and a little bit of backstory. Nothing too crazy. This will probably just be a one shot. The top half is heavily edited while the second half I just spat out because I was inspired and I went with it. Hopefully it’s good. This is my first foray into something other than Marvel, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Edit: I forgot to thank @babiiface95​ @evansweaters​ and @sherrybaby14​ for giving me some feedback on this! It helped tons!! xoxo

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

In this moment, all you can feel is the pain in your side.

You stumble forward, hitting the chestnut wood of your door hard. With nothing to brace yourself on, you slide along the length of it until you’re sitting, shoulder pressed against it.

“Ugh…” You groan, letting your hand trace the smooth grain until it can latch onto the handle. “Fuck this shit. I quit.”

You tell no one.

There hasn’t been anyone for months.

The door gives as you twist the knob sending you falling onto the small foyer of your apartment. You’re on the top floor, beside the penthouse. Your own place is small. Compact. Just three rooms, four if you count your bathroom.

You pull yourself along the dated ceramic tile and watch as you leave a smear of red behind you.

“Honey…” You begin, kicking the door shut while you stay flattered against the floor. “…I’m home.”

No one responds.

You exhale through your nose as annoyance rips through your chest.

“Fucker.” You say at no one, but obviously someone.

It takes every ounce of strength you have left to haul yourself into your bathroom. You peel off your suit, letting it drop to the floor in a whip of heavy fabric, space quality tech that was not fashioned on Earth but created for you.

To protect you.

Because he said he cared.

“Fucking…fucker.” You huff, yanking the first aid kit from the open shelf beneath your sink.

Your sports bra is drenched in sweat and blood, sticky against your skin as you plop yourself at the small kitchen table. You pull open the kit and reach for needle and thread.

It’s a messy stitch, clumsy and crooked from the angle you’re forced to work in. However sloppy, you do seal the wound to your ribs and the bleeding finally stops.

In your blood-soaked underwear, you make yourself a sandwich and stand at your counter, staring at the primary blue coffee cup sitting beside your own in teal.

You chew loudly, smacking your mouth as the bread sticks to the roof of your mouth. Eyes glaring at the cup, you bite down more fiercely. Tearing the food apart angrily.

“You’re a stupid bitch, Y/N. Get over it.” You sigh, then retreat to your bathroom to tidy up.

~~~~~~~~~~

Exhaustion is not your friend. It makes you cranky and irritable and sad because you can’t stand the silence in your home.

You groan, pressing your hand against your side gently, then reach for the remote and turn on the TV to war the silence.

It’s a cacophony of sound and for a moment, it grates your nerves. Some cartoon, loud and full of slapstick.

Next channel has people screaming at each other from opposite sides of a stage. Chairs begin to get thrown. A guy with a mullet takes off his shoe and chucks it at a man with one ear.

Next channel has an old black and white movie. The pretty woman with dark curls and a heart shaped face leans across a table, chin in her hand as she moons over the composed man who is smirking at her casually.

Nope. You think. No romance.

Next channel is the news.

“-sure what to make of what we’re seeing. It’s like nothing we have witnessed before. Veronica, can you tell us what’s happening?” The news anchor presses his hand to his ear, eyes squinted as he stares ahead.

The screen shifts and Veronica—a pretty woman with flowing red hair and deep blue eyes fills your screen.

“Miguel, it looks as if all of the ocean’s water is being pulled away from our coastline and out towards the ocean. Where the water is going, we aren’t sure. There is no way to know what this means or what can be causing it. And although we’ve seen this phenomenon happen in films, doomsday blockbusters where a tidal wave the height of a skyscraper builds up before the subsequent flood, experts are sure this is not at all what’s going on.

There are dozens of meteorologists, marine biologists, oceanographers, and astronomers still searching for the cause. The only thing that they all can agree on for certain is that the oceans are not withdrawing, but rather, they are draining, leaving sea life, coral reefs, and the ocean floor exposed.

“Something is pulling this water away. Whatever is causing this, is not natural.”

Sitting up, you place your elbows on your knees as the video changes to that of a helicopter shot as it circles the ever-decreasing ocean line. A humpback whale and her calf attempt to outswim the retreat, but they fail and as the water falls away, the creatures are beached between two sheer ocean cliffs.

“What the hell…” Reaching up, you cover your mouth, watching as the video moves back to Veronica.

“If we can’t figure out why the ocean is draining, we will have hundreds if not thousands of species left without chance of survival. This is not only a loss of a life for many endangered species, but also leaves us to face the consequences within our fishing industries and the millions of people it not only feeds but employs as well. If we cannot stop-”

Veronica suddenly stops speaking, holding her hand to her ear as she listens for a moment.

“Sorry, Miguel, it looks as if Doctor Rashda has found a source point for the draining. Doctor Rashda can you hear me?” Veronica asks, waiting for a moment before the video splits vertically.

The second frame of video sits empty, a sloping sandbank visible in the distance. It curves around in a semi-circle at the center of which is a growing swirl of dark blue water.

“Doctor Rashda?” Veronica asks again, her eyes frantic as they search a monitor out of view.

“Surrender.” A voice says, high pitched. Female. “Surrender and you will not suffer. Surrender your planet, and I shall make your end quick.”

Veronica is silent as the column of swirling water parts a little, just enough so that a pale face is visible.

“Surrender.” The voice says again, the pale face’s lips moving as it speaks. “And you will die quickly.”

Frowning, you move to the edge of your seat, your anger doubling.

“M-Miguel are you seeing this?” Veronica asks, voice small with fear.

Miguel doesn’t answer.

The figure in the water holds out its hand and from the swirl comes a smaller sphere. In this sphere something moves. As the camera zooms in, you can make out the distinct shape of a body, thrashing within its bubble.

Veronica screams just as you and everyone else that must be watching realizes that within the bubble is Doctor Rashda, struggling and gasping for breath.

You’re up on your feet, racing to pull your suit back on when a commotion pulls your eyes back to the TV, legs already in but with one shoulder exposed as you freeze mid-dress.

“He’s back!” Veronica is shouting gleefully. Relief and reverence painting her voice. “Superman is back!”

You move two steps closer to the TV, not intending to take the word of a panicked reporter. Until you can lay your own eyes on him then it isn’t real.

A few seconds pass. Then, a blur of blue and red streaks through the center of the bubble and when the water stops rippling, Doctor Rashda isn’t there.

“Motherfucker.”

You pull your suit on roughly, ignoring the way the movement tugs at your side as you zip up and launch out your open window.

You fall fast, plummeting towards the ground in a streak of teal and gray. When you’re only three feet away, you feel a surge of power as your arms, and legs burn with white hot energy.

It pushes you upwards and propels you higher and higher until you’re soaring across the sky at incredible speeds, leaving a silver trail of light behind you.

It only takes you minutes to reach the coast but sometime between you jumping out of your living room window and arriving here by the Golden Gate, the fight has moved cityside.

You hear a deafening crunch as blue and red goes slamming into black, gray, and brown ocean floor, disappearing into the subsequent rubble.

Heart pounding, you propel yourself towards a thin figure, long stringy black hair, sallow skin, arm still stretched out from her hit. She turns to look at you just as you reach her, but you throw your own fist out in a powerful uppercut. It throws the strange woman high into the air.

You follow for a few feet, hovering in there as you watch her skyrocket out of sight into dark clouds overhead.

Behind you the heap of ocean floor rubble begins to shift.

Coming to rest on the cliffside above, six feet below he breaks through the rock and it falls around him, a flurry of fine sediment saturating the air.

Chest heaving, side burning, heart clenched so tight you think it might truly be shredding, you watch as the fucker stands up and does a quick scan of the area looking just as perfect as he did when he left.

His eyes are focused, searching the sky for sight of his attacker but instead he finds you.

His eyes soften and you’re still so angry you glare. You turn on your heel and walk away, staring up at the sky as you wait for the woman to fall.

“Y/N…” You hear him say, but you don’t turn to look at him.

You can feel the swirling of wind as he flies up to you, the soft pats as his feet hit the ground. He circles around your right, leaning forward to get a better look at your face.

In your peripherals you can see the gentle curl of his dark hair, falling along his forehead and a hundred memories of your hand gently sweeping it aside make your body tremble.

The pleasure that the memory brings makes your blood boil and you roll your eyes, ignoring the puppy eyes he gives you.

“Let’s just get this over and done with. I’m tired.” You assert and watch as the strange woman careens towards the two of you, an inhuman screech growing louder as she falls.

Moving forward a few steps you aim yourself, bend your knees and launch yourself up towards her. As you collide, she grabs hold of your shoulders, and the two of you twist and spin in the air, struggling to get the upper hand.

Shifting quickly, you pull her over you, grab hold of her shirt front and with all the force in your body, you spin and chuck her down as Clark flies towards you to finish the job.

~~~~~~~~~~

A tattered white dress is all that remains of the ocean thief.

“Who was she?” Clark wonders, moving to stand beside you as you watch the stain of saltwater grow as her body dissolves to nothing.

“You don’t know?” You ask him, turning to look at him and hating how much it pleases you to finally see him again.

His broad body, thick with muscle and stupidly accentuated by his damn blue skintight suit, feels larger than before he left though you know that’s silly. He’s as God like as ever, though he’s only an alien. To the world, he’s a savior. Invincible.

Superman.

What really hurts to look at are his eyes.

It chokes you, those baby blues, full of unspoken questions and expectation. For you. For the future. For the present. He wants to know you again.

You tear your gaze back down to the woman as Clark shakes his head.

“No. I was flying home when I saw the ocean empty and followed the trail to the spout she was in.” Clark explains.

“Well, it’s too late to find out now.” You point out. “The water will come back soon. You’ll need to make sure people stay away from the coastline.”

Turning towards him, you wait, your rage evened out and layered with betrayal.

That painful gaze of his so piercing it nearly steals your breath away.

“Where were you, Clark?” You ask quietly, your anger outweighing the hurt.

The apologetic look he gives you, the tilt of his head, the step he takes towards you grates your nerves.

“Y/N-”

“It’s been months. Almost a year.” You sigh, unwilling to give in.

He takes your hand and the impulse to pull away nearly overwhelms you.

His hands are rough, only in that masculine way. His skin is unblemished. Perfect.

The strength of his movements are carefully calculated. A natural habit he’s developed after a lifetime of having to be gentle to keep from breaking those he touches. The heat from his hands is familiar and it envelops yours easily.

“I was coming home.” He tells you.

“Home? How do you know that it’s still your home? Maybe someone else has moved in.” You threaten and there’s a visible fall in his eyes.

It nearly breaks your icy exterior. But you have every right to be angry and hurt that he left you. Out of the blue, no word as to where he was going or when he’d come back.

“I have to go.” He’d said, and left you sitting on the couch, wondering when he’d come home.

He looks down at your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

“You went to see her first, didn’t you?” You accuse and he quickly meets your gaze.

“No.” He assures you passionately, moving a little closer. “No, I was going straight home.”

“She’s been looking for you.” You tell him, tempted to confess how useless you’d been in those first few weeks he was gone. “All of them have been. Where is Superman? Is the million-dollar question. And now here you are.”

He’s back just as randomly as he’d left. Just as sudden. Just as quiet.

“There he is!” A familiar voice shouts. On the bank across the large ravine you both stand in Veronica appears looking dazzled and excited, her camera man hoisting up his camera to begin what will be the first clear footage of Superman finally back. Earth’s hero returned.

Quickly you pull your hand from his and turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?” He asks, following for a few steps.

“Home. I’ve been in Australia for the last month dismantling a new crime syndicate with Bruce. He and I are both very tired. He stayed behind.”

“Oh.” Clark says.

“Superman!” Someone calls. “Superman is back!”

Civilians have begun to gather along the empty waterway, all of them eager for a glance at the Man of Steel.

You know how you made it sound and maybe it’s your annoyance making you push him away now that he’s home, but all you can think about is getting back home and being alone.

“The water will be back, Kal.” You shift to his birthname with so many ears nearby. “Get these people away.”

You leave him standing there, watching you fly away, with those baby blues full of quiet yearning.

~~~~~~~~~~

The apartment…your home…it’s a void.

You sit on the arm of your sofa still in full uniform, hand gently resting on your thigh—palm up. You’re a mess again. Dirty with blood and dirt and sweat.

Needing a shower doesn’t do much to deter your silly brooding. Silly because you did this to yourself. You made it seem like you had someone new waiting for you here when really the bleak emptiness is in need of a six-foot, three-inch tall Kryptonian.

His presence is here. Loud and white hot. His coffee cup burns you from across the kitchen—asking where its owner is. His drawer still full of clothes. Comfy sweatshirts and crisp white t-shirts. Blues and grays and reds too.

There’s one you’d set aside. The last he’d worn. Only once. It had sat on the end of your bed night after night until you’d caved and pulled it on. Now it probably smells more like you than him.

The place is silent. Only the drip, drip, drip of the bathroom sink breaks the quiet.

Your gaze wanders to his shoes by the door, shoelaces left undone, a small speck of mud on the side of the left heel.

Shutting them, your eyes water.

No. You shake your head. I won’t cry.

You take a shaky breath and release it slowly, sighing as your body slumps forward.

The movement reminds you of your earlier wound and you gasp in pain as you sit up straight again, leaning to the side to look at the spot growing increasingly wet on your side.

“Shit.” Stitches are probably torn open. “Fuck.”

Maybe it’s your frustration with this whole situation or maybe your wound really just hurts a lot, but as you reach over to feel the bloody spot, your voice finally breaks. Though there are no tears, they really want to fall.

“Fucking, stupid, fucking…” You sigh again, this time faster, angry.

“That’s a lot of French.” Clark says, his voice smooth and even and excruciatingly beautiful to your ears.

You stand up, startled, and spin to watch him pull his left leg in through your open window, following his torso.

He’s still in his suit, cape and all. Once again, the sight of him reminds you of his Godlike status. His perfection unreachable and yet, here he is. In your home. Where he’d given himself to you openly and without reservation.

He stands there, his hands clenched into nervous fists. Skin just as dirty as yours but not sweaty. Not bloody. His hair is a little disheveled. The tresses normally so carefully tempered are free to curl and wave.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, voice still weak from your raw emotional outburst.

“I went to see Bruce.” He explains, and you might just kick yourself for implying Bruce would be waiting for you. “Why-?”

“Because I wanted to hurt you.” You admit, cutting him off before he can word the question. “Because I wanted you to regret leaving me the way you did.”

“I do regret it.” He sighs. “I-I only left because I thought I heard…”

He hesitates and you’re tempted to kick him out. You turn away from him and move into the kitchen, trying to ignore the wound that needs tending.

With your own coffee cup in hand, you pop a k-cup in your Keurig and punch the power button, waiting for it to power on before you select the largest cup option and listen to the whirr of the motors instead of Clark’s silence.

“I went to Krypton, or what’s left of it.” Clark finally says, this time from the mouth of your kitchen archway, hands still clamped tight.

You shut your eyes tight, hands clinging to the edge of your counter. Squeezing ever tighter until they begin to ache, and you still only keep squeezing.

“I wish I could be as impressed by that answer as I was the first time you told me that.” You shake your head.

“It was different this time, Y/N.” He shakes his head, then takes a step closer.

The movement draws your eyes and you watch the intense focus on his face, the uncertainty to speak.

“What is it?” You ask, still a little bitter.

Even though he looks as if he means it and this trip to Krypton is more serious, he’s not speaking. He’s keeping this from you. Holding it back.

“Jesus fucking Christ Clark, I guess you don’t trust me.”

“No.” He insists, moving another step closer which still leaves him a ways away from you in the kitchen. “It’s not that. I do trust you. More than anyone. But…”

You want to scream at him. You want to tell him to go to hell and to stay away from you and to shove his excuses up his ass, but your curiosity is growing.

There’s a small panic in his baby blue eyes. A fear.

So, you wait. You hold your tongue. You’re patient for now. You give him a familiar silence that tells him you will wait until he’s ready.

He recognizes it and meets your quizzical gaze as your coffee finishes brewing.

You don’t even realize it’s done as you stare into Clark’s eyes and he stares into yours.

The moment he decides, his shoulders relax. His jaw drops a fraction of an inch as he stops clenching his teeth.

As the weight on his shoulders is visibly lifted, you feel yourself relax too. Nearly a year of being without him and you’re still so attuned to his moods.

“I found someone.” He tells you. “On another planet, in a Kryptonian ship that had been sent only days after my own.”

“Another Kryptonian?” You ask, curious but also fearful.

You remember very clearly the last Kyrptonian that had come to Earth. Zod and his minions had torn Metropolis to shreds. They’d killed so many people and Clark had made the hardest decision in his life.

Not that you’d been there. She’d been there. But Clark had let you in on the weight of that moment. The choice that he hated to make but would gladly do so again.

He must see the fear in your eyes because he shakes his head and takes yet another step towards you.

“No. Don’t be scared. Really. She’s-”

She?!

“-she’s harmless.” You frown at him because that’s the stupidest fucking thing he’s said since getting back. Maybe the stupidest thing ever.

“Okay,” He amends. “Maybe not harmless, exactly. She’s my cousin, Y/N. And she needed help.”

“Your cousin?” You ask, voice low and full of questions.

“From what I can tell, she was sent here after me, but when her ship was knocked off course, she was trapped in form of hypersleep for a long time. She was older than me, but now she’s a lot younger.” Clark continues to explain, speaking with some gusto now that you’ve allowed him to pick up some momentum.

“Where is she?” You wonder.

“I left her with a family that can take care of her. Someone that I trust. Far away from me. She’s still very young and I think it would be best if she remained hidden for a while. Just until she learns how to control her abilities here on Earth and to give the world time to get used to the idea of another Kryptonian.” He takes one more step.

“After Zod, I don’t know that there is any amount of time that would prepare the world for a Supergirl.” You frown.

With your defenses lowered, Clark takes the opportunity to step even closer, finally stopping beside you.

He hesitates again, this time as he reaches to take hold of your elbow. His fingers press against your arm gently like he’s stroking piano keys. Testing to see if you’ll pull away.

You don’t.

He lifts your arm a little and doesn’t break eye contact with you until your arm is lifted enough that he can get a clear look at the red on your side. Head tilted to the right as he assess the injury.

Straightening his head, he slides his hand down to your hand, taking it before gently pulling you away from the kitchen, through your bedroom, and into your bathroom, switching on lights as he goes.

Watching him be like this has always been your favorite. He moves with a purpose, eyes trained on what he’s looking for without a glance spared your way.

You stand beside him as he holds your hand, hunched over to look under the sink for your first aid kit.

After he retrieves it, he pulls you back out into the kitchen. There’s more room there for both your bodies, especially with his taking up so much space.

He places the kit on the floor before he pulls you in front of him. Both of his hands find your waist and he lifts you up onto the edge of the counter to sit.

Slightly surprised, you gasp and place your hands on his shoulders, tracing the muscle while you can do so discreetly until you must remove them and place them at your sides.

Clark steps towards you, his hard abdomen pressed up against your legs as he wraps both arms around you, hands searching for the zipper on your back. Leaning over your shoulder to get a look at it, he’s almost hugging you.

And you can’t stand the tease of it.

The movement is quick, and he leans back again once he’s got the suit undone.

“What happened?” He asks as he hooks his thumbs into the top of your suit and pulls it down over your shoulders, your biceps—then holds the arms still as he waits for you to pull them out—then bunches it down along your waist to expose your injured side. “Lift your arm.”

You do as he ass, wincing as it tugs on the reopened cut.

“This is deep.” He disapproves.

“Bruce and I really were in Australia. One of the guys caught me with a knife just as we were getting them rounded up.” You explain.

“This is gonna hurt.” He tells you as he pulls the kit onto the counter beside you and pulls out a pair of small scissors and tweezers.

It takes him almost no time at all to snip away the broken threads and clean the wound again.

He waits, thinking for a moment, then meeting your gaze.

“Do you want something for the pain?” He checks, eyebrows raised in worry.

“Just do it, Clark.” You sigh, frustrated because this is all too familiar. This proximity, the smells, the heat, the way his hands poke and prod at the edges of your cut.

His eyebrows gather together as his jaw flexes with a frown, staring at the cut as he threads the needle quickly.

A proper needle this time, sanitized and threaded properly.

Taking your lifted arm, he pulls it over his head onto the opposite shoulder and places your hand there where his cape meets his suit.

“It’s gonna hurt.” He says again, and you realize he’s giving you something to squeeze.

And he’s right. Without the adrenaline from before, you feel every stitch and you’d thin you would get used to this sensation. But it hurts like fuck all and you squeeze his cape tight until you can’t help but give a small yell in annoyance.

“Why is it always the little wounds that hurt the most?” You sigh as he sips the thread and moves to clean his work area.

“You should go shower.” Clark says as he sanitizes the counter. “Be careful with your stitches.”

You don’t fight him on this because you desperately need another shower. Maybe if you’d been fine, you would have argued, but you’re dirty and aching.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you find that the sky outside has darkened. You dress quickly, just a pair of black old cutoff sweats and one of Clark’s gray hoodies.

You’re absolutely swimming in it, but it’s so soft and comfortable. Loose so that it doesn’t add any pressure to your stitches.

The apartment is so quiet you stand there, pulling the sweatshirt down as you listen intently for any kind of movement.

“Clark?” You call, just a little insecure after months of his absence.

You move out into the living room. The floorboards creak and moan as they settle beneath your feet. The large carpet in your living room silences your steps but you also stop walking, staring at the empty kitchen, then the empty living room.

Had you dreamt him?

Maybe he really isn’t back?

What if you’ve finally gone crazy?

What if he’s never coming back and you’d passed out after you got back from Australia and everything with the ocean had been a dream?

Are you really going nuts?

There’s a soft thud from your bedroom and with eager footsteps you rush back in.

Sitting on his side of the bed with his bare feet planted on the ground, Clark is hunched over. Elbows on his knees. Hands resting relaxed at the wrist while he stares at the floorboard underneath your bedroom window.

“Clark…” You sigh, not realizing how relieved you sound.

He’s changed, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a plain white t-shirt.

He looks good. Showered. His curls just barely damp.

“Am I welcome here?” He asks, staring ahead.

You move to the bed and climb on, walking on your knees towards him until you stop just a foot away and sit back on your legs.

It’s a good question. One you think on for a moment.

“You didn’t come back for ten months, Clark.” You sigh, hating that fact. “I didn’t know if something had happened to you or maybe you’d decided to leave me and Earth behind altogether? Mostly I just thought you were dead. I spent most of my time convincing myself that you’re so close to invincible that killing you might be impossible but-”

“I’ve died before.” Clark says, hating the idea that people think him a God. He turns towards you and frowns.

His words, however true they may be, send painful clenches into your chest.

Your face does something that makes his demeanor shift. Suddenly he’s sitting beside you, arm wrapped around your waist as he reaches up to push your hair back and away from your face.

His fingers graze the skin of your neck and he hooks it there, squeezing gently.

“I’m not dead.” He says, maybe guessing your thoughts of madness? “I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t.” You shake your head. “And I was so angry at you. I hated you. I cursed your name. Fuck that guy. Stupid fucker. I hate him.”

Clark simply watches you, his eyes moving side to side as he looks at your face and every expression that crosses your features.

The one thing that you’ve always loved about Clark, is the way that you can tell he’s really listening. Not once have you felt as if you weren’t being heard. Even if he doesn’t agree with whatever you’re saying, he listens so intently, trying to understand your point of view before he poses his own.

And you love him for it.

Shit. You still love him. Of course, you do. Of course, he’s always been yours.

Even in his absence, you were his and he was yours.

“I said that almost every night, hoping that you would hear me and come back. But you didn’t.”

“But I did.” Clark says. “I’m here. And I’m sorry I left without explanation. I’m sorry that I put you through that. And I know that you can’t forgive me for it. That I’ll be trying to earn your trust again every day that we’re together. But, please can I stay?”

He rubs your lower back, his large hand sending heat into every inch of your heart. Restarting it after he killed it ten months ago.

“Please?” He begs. “All I’ve thought about is getting back here. To you. To our home and our life together.”

You shut your eyes, relishing in the way his arms feel around you, his hands large and hot. His breath is sweet and warm. His scent is clean and so him that it makes your stomach flutter.

You won’t need that shirt of his anymore. Now you have him back, here with you. Where you can touch and feel and love and laugh and just be with him.

“Or should I leave?” He asks.

Your eyes pop open, red fury raging through them. “You do and I’ll hunt you down, Kent.”

He smiles, softly at first. But when your hand begins to trace the taut sinew of his muscly forearm, his smile grows wider. It grows and grows until it’s blinding and beautiful.

You trace the curve of his shoulder, tickle his neck before reaching up to smooth the curls that fall against his forehead gently.

He shuts his eyes, enjoying the affection before you push yourself forward between his legs and settle on your side.

You cuddle into the center of his chest, tucking yourself between his arms, head on his chest, under his chin, arms grabbing tight to the soft cotton of his shirt.

“I missed you.” He whispers against your hair.

You smile, shutting your eyes as you let yourself finally be at ease. Clark is home.

[aria-i-adagio]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Ship: Dorian x m!Trevelyan

Rating: T

read on A03 or below

(title from REM, 'Imitation of Life')

Meanwhile, in Haven.

Rhys has a list of sights he does not want to see as he’s dying. At the top (and a recent addition) are hurlocks - those are some ugly motherfuckers, and he suspects that they enjoy making death hurt. Most varieties of demons; although, perhaps a desire demon might not be too bad. Granted, he doesn’t know if the illusions they cast last up to the point of death, or if those are only good while being possessed. That might change the calculus a bit. One of the red lyrium crystal monsters the Templars were turning themselves into. A bear. He definitely does not want to see a bear while he’s dying.

As final sights go, the implosion of the Breach as the thing in his hand stitches the Veil back together isn’t a bad one. The outer edges turn magenta, then blue-violet. The cooler colors rush to the center, swirl together, drawing inward until there’s just a speck of black, more liquid than the darkest night. Then bright, morning sunlight pulses like a heartbeat from that center.

Rhys lets go of the breath he was holding. He thinks it worked, thinks the Breach is closed. It feels powerful enough - a wave of magic like fire and lightning pouring through him, in and out, like breathing in harsh, herbal smoke that messes with his head and makes the world swim, and at least, in his case, despite many promises to the contrary never makes him as sleepy as it just makes him keyed up and in want a good fuck.

The shockwave following the pulse of white light picks him up off his feet and sends him hurtling through the air and slamming him like a ragdoll into rocks and ice around Haven.

Still, the light is damned pretty. Until it fades.

He hears Dorian's voice through the ringing in his ears. “Rhys! Thank the Maker.”

Rhys hopes that he isn’t dead because if he is that implies that Dorian is dead too, and that would rather sad. The world needs Dorian smiling and making catty jokes. There’s been too much melancholy and death over the past few months. Rhys is getting tired of all the omens of doom and gloom.

There’s another little gap in time before his head recovers enough to remember how to open his eyes. When he does, Cassandra’s upside-down face greets him. Dorian's would have been a prettier sight, but there's something comfortingly familiar about seeing Cassie first thing after realizing that - despite there being every reason for him to be - he is not, in fact, dead.

Rhys's vision still spins, and his left arm feels like it’s burning from the inside out. Yes, he’s been here before. Best just to let go, disconnect from it, float a little bit. “Are you going to yell at me again?”

“What?” Cassie’s dark brows pull low over her eyes. “No!”

“Too bad. You’re kinda attractive when you look like you’re about to commit murder.”

“Herald!”

Cassie sounds scandalized. Rhys manages a grin. Not that scandalizing Cassie actually takes that much effort. Makes her easy to tease. Something to distract him from how much he’s hurting at the moment because pretending that the waves of pain radiating from his arm are the ocean doesn’t actually work very well. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been in the ocean since he was a small child. The memory of floating in warm waves until they send you tumbling into rough sand isn’t fresh enough.

“Keep talking like that, Lucky, and you might yet manage to die tonight.”

“Hey, Varric.” Rhys tries to lift his head and the bastard offspring of fire and electricity shoots from his shoulder to neck and then down his spine. The muscles in his back spasm and his head hits the ground beneath him, blacking out his vision for another moment and sending the ringing in his ears a pitch higher. “Did it work?” he asks groggily.

“You did good, kid.”

“So it -”

“The Breach is sealed, Rhys.” Solas’s calm voice is reassuring to hear. “Try not to move, this will hurt more before it hurts less.”

“That story -” He means to say ‘again,’ but Cassandra grabs his shoulders very firmly and maybe he shouldn't waste breath on quips.

“Dorian, be ready.” Solas does something, and that something rips the fire out of his left arm, which is - as promised - worse than just letting it settle in like some magical, fatal addition to the marrow.

“Motherfucking, son of a bitch, what in the name of Andraste's flaming arse -”

“Language.” Cassie lets go of his shoulders and reprimands him with a light cuff on the side of his head. “Oh let the kid blaspheme a bit, Seeker. He's earned it.”

Rhys sits up and rubs his hand. Above him, the sky is still marked by a line of bright green, but it’s a seam in the darkness, not a whirling, pulsating storm. His arm doesn't hurt now, but there's the same fuzzy numb wrongness in his wrist and palm that he's gotten used to over the past few months. That's on a good day.

Solas arches his eyebrows and looks amused. “You know I do very little in the name of Andraste's arse, flaming or not.”

“Whatever your reason -” Rhys experimentally stretches out his left arm and reaches across his chest to rub his shoulder. It’s still aching, but just the banal ache of falling a bit too hard. “Thank you."

Nearby Dorian finishes casting with an elegant - and probably unnecessary - flourish of his elegant hands. One of the trees beside the Chantry behind to glow with the green of a Veil Rift, then warming to a color closer to chartreuse.

“What is that?”

“You absorbed a lot of energy while closing the Breach. I siphoned off what I could at the time. But still, far more than a human body is supposed can contain and remain alive.”

“Right.” Movement of energy had been his theory for some time. Massive amounts of magic were required to open or close a rift in the Veil, and something had to serve as a conduit. Whatever happened at the Conclave had left him as that conduit, but each time he felt the power come closer to burning through the bonds that held him together, made him human. Which was precisely why there was a stack of farewell letters sitting on the desk in Rhys's quarters. He hadn’t expected to live through whatever it took to close the Breach.

“Dorian and I pulled off some of what remained and redirected it. It's a rather beautiful effect, albeit transient.”

The tree turns to a brilliant brilliant gold and then quivers and collapses into a pile of shimmering dust. Rhys swallows hard. Not expecting to live isn’t quite the same as getting a glimpse of how you would have died. Or maybe a human body was messier than a tree. Typically were less graceful than plants. “I see.”

“Right then. Let's get you freshened up and then get some liquor in you.” Dorian grabs his forearms and hauls him to his feet. Face to face with the other mage, Rhys feels transparent. Like a plane of glass that can't hide fears and flaws. It's terrifying. Electrifying. “Everyone else has already started the party.”

Even nearly nose to nose with Dorian, Rhys still can't tame the small voice in the back of his head that says he's reading Dorian all wrong, that the man is just friendly, that there's certainly no way someone so beautiful and refined would be interested in a mudlark.

He hopes that voice is just being stupid.

Dorian slips him a flask of brandy as they walk away. Rhys flips the cap off and sips gratefully from it. His legs feel loose, off-balance, like he’s drunk already, and he suspects he would be staggering but for Dorian’s arm around his waist. The linen undergarments beneath his leather coat and woolen sweater are soaked with sweat and chilly even beneath the layers; he’s content enough to let Dorian drag him to the small cabin he’d been given. Really, actually, it is too much for a single person, much bigger than the room he had at Ostwick. And frankly, far too cold with only a single person’s body heat in the space at night.

He stumbles past the partition to the room in the back, trying to decide if he’d rather fall face-first onto the bed, or dig out a new base layer and go enjoy the party he can hear the rest of the Inquisition beginning outside. Leliana and Josephine will probably show up if he chooses the latter and drag him back out with a lecture on keeping up appearances and rallying the people. They might even be right.

Maker, he hopes his part in all this is over. Let Cassandra and Leliana continue trying to remake all of Thedas. He just wants to go home. If he has a home to go to.

“Oh look at this!” Dorian exclaims from the front. “Antivan red. And a halfway decent vintage. You’ve been holding out on me, Rhys.”

“Talk to Josie.” Rhys undoes the buttons down the front of his coat. Too many buttons, especially with hands that are stiff from the cold and shaking from an overdose of magic. He tosses it over the foot of the bed and takes off his sweater. He’s rather fond of the sweater actually, it’s nice and warm and the good kind of scratchy. The kind that kept you in the present place and time. “She’s not lying about her family connections.”

“Not sure she likes me. Yet. She’ll come around.”

“I’m sure she will.” Rhys smiles a little and cautiously - sometimes he has to recalibrate just how much magic to use after closing a Rift - casts a spell to melt the ice on the pitcher of water. Closing the Breach hadn’t done anything to improve Haven’s climate. Maker, why do people choose to live here? He splashes still chilly water over his face and leans his hands against the table, trying not to yawn so hard that his jaw cracks off.

His linen shirt is soaked to his skin; he has to virtually peel it off. It gets tossed to the floor, something that can be dealt with later and by someone else. He soaks a bit of toweling at rubs it over his chest and shoulders, glancing behind him, at least somewhat hoping that Dorian is surreptitiously peering around the partition.

He isn't. He’s turned away from the opening in the partition - polite, Rhys supposes - holding the stack of letters in his hands and shuffling through them. “Rhys. What are these?”

“Just... I need to burn those. They were just in case, well, you know, this wasn't exactly the guaranteed outcome.” He didn’t even know if half the people he had addressed them to were still alive, much less where to find them, but he assumed that Leliana would be able to figure that out if she needed to.

“How late were you up writing them?”

All night. “A while.”

“You were sitting here last night, by yourself, writing these because you thought you might die - Rhys, why didn't you say anything? You didn't have to sit in here drinking and contemplating death alone.”

“I thought the chance closing the Breach would kill was generally understood.” Just the kind of thing that no one talks about in polite society. Rhys combs his fingers through his hair and tries to put it into something akin to order and not just hanging unattractively lank around his face. Kind. Dorian might have a vicious tongue in his head, but he’s also kind when he wants to be. “Open the bottle if you want. If I was saving it for a special occasion, I think this qualifies.”

Rhys sits on the edge of the bed and undoes the buckles down the sides of his boots, tugging them off and rolling down the first of three pairs of socks. The other two are tucked under his trousers. Clean socks will be nice. He gets his trousers off - tight leather is really annoying. Decent armor. A good look on him too - even he can recognize that. But annoying to get on and off.

He finishes washing up quickly and dresses again, listening as Dorian pops the cork out of the bottle and the sound of wine being poured. Hopefully, it’s a decent vintage. He’d hate to disappoint.

Dorian is sitting in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on the desk. Rhys does it all the time himself; it’s a bizarrely satisfying act of delayed rebellion against the librarians who scolded him for doing the same thing in the Circle. The letters have been set aside in a much tidier stack than the one in which he had left them. He pulls the second chair out from the desk, sits down, and picks up the wine glass that Dorian isn’t twirling in his elegant hands.

Dorian stops him as he raises the glass to his lips. “Don’t drink it yet, silly. A red needs to breathe.”

“Right. Yes. Anyway, thanks. For saving my life back there. What is that, like the fiftieth time.”

Dorian raises his eyebrows, smiling over the cup in his hand. “Bad form to let someone die. Especially someone you rather -”

Bells begin clanging outside, interrupting whatever Dorian was about to say. He swings his feet from the desk to the floor and sets the cup violently down on the table. “Oh, Andraste’s quaking quim, what now?”

Rhys grins. “You’re getting as bad as a Ferelden.” Even if the bells are unlikely to signify anything good, he can enjoy a little humor.

“Worse, I think.” Dorian throws back the cup of wine as he gets up from the table, and Rhys follows suit. Yes. It is a more than decent vintage even without enough time to breathe, and he grabs the bottle as Dorian pushes the door open because whatever is about to happen will probably merit alcohol. Cullen is standing outside, still in full armor and fur and with the grim expression that Haven seems to have frozen on his features.

“We’re under attack. Grab your staves. Meet me at the gate.”

“Void take it.” Dorian takes the bottle from him and drinks. “Come on, Rhys. Looks like fate hasn’t given up fucking with us yet.”

Well, fuck.

[favefandomimagines]

Soul Surfer 6

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES chapter 6 came early!!! we get some cute Kie/Sarah/Violet action in this as well as some John B/Violet! we stan healthy platonic relationships!!

ALSO: i can’t tag anymore people 😭 i’ve reached the 50 tags limit! if anyone has any suggestions to tag more people, dm me!!

It had been around five days since Violet had spoken to JJ. Kiara made sure that the girl still knew that her, John B and Pope still wanted her around. They weren’t about to give up two friends because JJ was being an idiot.

Kiara knew that Violet was worried that they’d stop hanging out with her because JJ was their best friend. But to Kiara, Violet was also her best friend. In such a short amount of time too.

Violet had been throwing herself into work, all of the orders keeping her mind busy from wandering to JJ. Which it often did most nights and then she resorted to watching true crime shows on Netflix as a distraction.

JJ wasn’t doing any better. He kept trying to get her to talk to him so he could apologize but it was no use. Violet wouldn’t budge. He hated not being able to see her and to talk to her. He had to go back to sleeping at John B’s whenever he was afraid to go home. Of course he was grateful he had a place to go, but he wanted it to be Violet.

Violet hadn’t seen Pope and John B since the night at the Boneyard. She didn’t want them picking sides between her and JJ. It would have made her feel more guilty than she already did.

Kiara and Sarah, however, made sure they stuck by her like glue. Violet couldn’t seem to shake them but she didn’t mind at all.

Violet, Sarah and Kiara were presently at The Wreck having a well needed girls day.

“Okay, okay, Vi. If you had to choose: Harry Styles or Tom Holland?” Sarah asked. “That’s not fair! It’s like asking me to pick a favorite child!” Violet replied. Kiara and Sarah laughed at the girl’s response as she pondered the thought.

“Okay, fine. Harry Styles. Any day of the week.” Violet answered. The three girls sat at their table, falling into mindless conversation about boys and clothes, just happy they were able to spend time together, when the bell on top of the door rang.

Their attention was grabbed by the sound. Violet’s heartbeat sped up rapidly when her eyes landed on the blonde boy.

“Vi, I didn’t know he’d be here.” Kiara said quietly. “It’s fine.” Violet said, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

“Hey guys! You didn’t tell us you were hanging out today.” John B greeted the three. “Last time I checked this is girls day. Which you are not.” Kiara sassed back.

Violet refused to look up at her friend as they conversed with each other. She could feel JJ’s eyes on her and it made her skin feel on fire.

It was starting to slowly overwhelm her and she heard JJ utter a few words, she quickly got up from her chair and exited the establishment. Sarah and Kiara looked at each other before JJ followed after her.

“Violet!” He called. Violet didn’t stop walking, not wanting to face him. “Please talk to me.” JJ begged, grabbing her arm gently. “I told you to leave me alone.” Violet said, ripping her arm from his grasp.

She still refused to look at him, knowing that if she did, she’d actually end up listening to his potential apology.

“God, can you at least look at me?” He asked. Violet paused a moment before she finally looked up at him.

Only then did he see how upset she really was. At the Boneyard, the darkness hid her face and he silently wished for that again.

“What do you wanna say, JJ? You’re sorry? Sorry for what you said? You wish you could take it all back? Well you can’t! I trusted you. I didn’t tell anyone about my mom and you decided to use that against me.” Violet snapped. “Violet, I,” JJ started before the brunette scoffed and turned away.

JJ was persistent, however, going after Violet once more in another desperate attempt to get her to listen to him.

“I screwed up! I know that! I was mad at Rafe for what he said and instead of finishing to take it out on him, I took it out on you and I’m sorry!” JJ said.

Violet rolled her eyes and kept ignoring him by the time they approached her house.

“Please, JJ, just stop.” She pleaded quietly. JJ could see the hurt in her eyes. How her once bright, cerulean blue eyes were now a darker shade. He would describe it as how the ocean looked during a storm. And he wanted nothing more than to stop her pain.

Before either of them could continue with the painful conversation, the sound of raised voices alerted them both.

“Vivienne, you need to leave now.” Rob’s voice said. JJ watched as Violet’s eyes widened and the color seemingly drained from her face. “She’s my daughter too, Rob.�� A woman said.

The two ‘adults’ walked on to the porch and their conversation ceased when they saw Violet and JJ.

“Violet, honey,” Vivienne started. “No. No, this is not happening.” She muttered. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Violet sneered. “Language, young lady.” Her mother scolded her. “You lost the right to tell me what to do when you gave up your parental rights!” Violet yelled.

“Vi, it’s okay.” Her older brother, Nick, said. Violet looked at her brother in disbelief at the fact that he was defending their mother.

Nick was three years older than Violet, the two being inseparable since Violet was born. That was until their mother took him and left. When Nick was old enough, he reached back out to Violet and their father trying to rebuild that bond they once shared. It worked for the most part though Violet never told Nick where they moved to.

“Both of you shut up.” Violet snapped. She turned around quickly when she realized JJ was still standing close to her. “You were right. Guess I am a sad little rich girl with mommy issues.” She muttered to him before she took off running.

“Violet!” Rob yelled. “Vi!” JJ added. The two males looked at each other momentarily before their gaze returned to Violet’s fleeting figure.

__

“You shouldn’t have come here, Vivienne. You knew what this would do to her.” Rob told his ex wife. “She’s still my child. I have a right.” Vivienne said. “You lost your right when you left! You signed away your parental rights to Violet the second you signed the divorce papers.” Rob yelled.

The room fell in a silence, though that didn’t stop the two teenage boys from eavesdropping on the porch.

“It’s been 10 years. 10 years and I’ve taken care of Violet just fine. We have been just fine.” Rob added.

Back on the porch, JJ and Nick sat on sides from each other. “So, you Violet’s boyfriend?” Nick asked, breaking the silence. “God, I wish.” JJ muttered before quickly correcting himself.

“Uh, no. We’re just friends. Or at least we were before I messed it up.” He added. Nick was quiet for a moment as he moved to lean on the porch railing.

“Take it from me, losing Violet sucks. But, if you beg and plead enough, she’ll let you back in.” He said. “Did you tell your mom Violet and Rob were here?” JJ asked. “God, no. Violet didn’t even tell me. Just because I’m back in her good graces doesn’t mean she tells me everything.” the older boy answered.

JJ thought for a moment until he realized he might know where Violet went.

On one of the many adventures JJ and Violet had together, JJ took her to a secret clearing he once discovered when he was running from his dad.

“Where are you taking me?” Violet asked with a laugh. “You ask too many questions.” JJ answered. “I’ve seen Criminal Minds, is this where you kill me?” She questioned. “No, pretty girl. I couldn’t survive without seeing that face every day.” JJ replied flirtatiously.

Violet rolled her eyes until they came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a small waterfall that went into a small pond below. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” She commented.

“That’s not the only thing.” JJ said, hoping Violet wouldn’t hear him but she did. “I know how you’ve been missing home so I thought this would help.” The blonde said.

Violet looked up at JJ before she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.” Violet whispered.

JJ knew Violet wouldn’t want him to be the one to find her, so he sent a text to the rest of the Pogues.

Kie had to work, as did Pope, and Sarah was dealing with her own messed up familial issues. John B was the only one able to go find Violet. JJ trusted him to talk her off whatever edge she found herself on.

The boy wandered through the woods, following JJ’s instructions, though the teenager wasn’t so good at giving directions. He swatted at the numerous bugs getting in his face when he found the clearing.

He saw Violet sitting on a rock, her feet dangling in the water. “Fancy seeing you here.” John B announced.

Violet turned around and saw her distant friend standing a few feet away. “How’d you find me?” She asked. “JJ. He figured you wouldn’t want to see him but he wanted to make sure you were okay.” John B explained, walking towards her.

He sat down on the rock next to her as the two looked at the waterfall for a moment.

“Did he tell you what happened?” Violet asked. “No. He told me some family stuff was going on and wanted someone to check on you. Said it was your story to tell.” He answered.

Violet sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “He’s really trying, isn't he?” She asked him. “He really likes you, Vi. He’s never fallen this hard before and I don’t think he knows how to handle it. But yeah, he really is trying.” John Be said.

After an hour, John B drove Violet back home. By that point, the sun had set and it was already dark.

Violet sat in the van, staring at her house for a moment. Scared of what she was going to walk into. “It’s now or never.” John B told her. “And I’ll tell JJ you’re okay.” He added.

The girl groaned before getting out of the van. She gave John B a small wave as she slowly walked up the stairs.

“You’re back.” A voice said. Violet jumped and turned in that direction to see her brother sitting on the porch swing. Violet sighed and took a seat next to him.

“That guy was here for a while. At least two hours. We heard mom and dad fighting about you.” Nick said. “He really cares about you.” He added.

“So I’ve been told.” She muttered. “You sticking around?” She asked. “That’s why I’m here. I’m getting emancipated and I needed dad to sign off on the papers and mom followed me here. When I caught on she said it had something to do with getting us back or whatever. She’s crazy.” Nick explained.

“Tell me something I don’t know. So can I count on you to help me get rid of her?” Violet asked. “What are brothers for?” NIck replied.

Violet rested her head on her brother’s shoulder, her brain working a mile a minute.

Tag list: @outerbxmalia @hockeyschmockey @allie-mcginn @prejudic3 @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @diverrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @princessmugglecup @infinityspaceuniverse @teamnick @lulbabes @frankiebcanon @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @lopineapples @belledutchess @floridabornandraised @obbx-tings @x-lulu @hopelesswritingxd @prettyboyspence @junkiemuppettxx @shawnssongs @theloxersclub @99sxuxii @jeyramarie @miliefayy @rudths @y0ungandfuckingdumb @xealia @hotel-colson @bubblesam06 @outrbank @thebendslikebendover @wasted-on-5sos @booksandshish @drizzlethatfalls @runway-to-my-aid @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @xlittlemissydjx @strawberryblondies @haharudy @chickencrispers666 @simonsbluee @httpstarkey @kylable

[lilacs-with-lavender]

Slip Away Pt. 2

Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

Read Pt. 1 here! Or read on Ao3 here!

Summary:

After a long year of putting slaver ships at the bottom of the ocean, Captain Inej Ghafa docks in Ketterdam for the first time in a long while. She tells herself she’s come back to take on some new crew, maybe visit a few old friends. But if Inej is being honest with herself Jesper’s last few letters have had her worrying about a certain bastard of the barrel, one she hasn’t heard from in months. One who’s rasping voice and light touches have haunted her dreams since she left.

WC: 2, 557

Warnings: nightmares, some heated touching, & lots of feels

Kaz was drowning, again. The water that filled his mouth tasted like sweet rotting death and he clawed at his throat. Desperate to be rid of it, to be free of the darkness that held him beneath the surface. He could never escape, it dragged him deeper and deeper until he could no longer thrash, he just opened his mouth in a silent scream. 

His last thoughts full of all he hadn’t done. Ketterdam’s king barrel boss was nothing in the face of what made him truly happy. Inej.

Her name was like a prayer gone unanswered within him, Inej who he wouldn’t let himself have. Inej who deserved better then him. Inej who had told him once when she thought he couldn’t hear that she loved him. 

Inej. Inej. Inej. 

His breathing grew erratic and all of a sudden the blackness of the dream was fading and he was blinking in the sunlight. Kaz’s brows knit in confusion, why wake from one nightmare only to come to in another dream? It couldn’t be anything other than a dream to wake up nose to nose with the one lovely face he’d been thinking of just moments before. 

But as the fuzziness of sleep faded Kaz started to notice the little things that no dream could capture correctly. Her hair had come down around her face, the end of that signature braid hanging over her waist and there was a birthmark above her collarbone that he liked to kiss.

And then her chest rose, and fell, and rose again. Kaz froze. Unable to tear his eyes away as her dark brows crinkled and moved, oil black lashes fluttering as she made a soft noise of contentment. He couldn't comprehend it, Inej, in Ketterdam, in his bed.

Before he act on the instinct to escape and get dressed however she opened her eyes fully, warm brown gaze dragging over his features carefully. It felt like a phantom touch, and when he couldn’t help himself any longer Kaz reached for her and with one slender finger, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She was really there. Sleepy and barefoot in his bed. 

“Inej…”

She reached out a finger to smooth the divot that had formed between his brows and Kaz shivered. Her touch was like an electric current, terrifying yet exciting, and he wanted- saints he wanted more of it. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember…

“You asked me to stay.”

He blinked, and she saw the confusion on his face, took it as a sign that he’d made a mistake last night and went to get out of bed. Kaz stopped her quickly, instinctively panicking at the thought of being without her again. 

Gulping nervously at the look she gave him when she settled back into bed Kaz tried to appear emotionless. “Did I… um did I say anything else?”

Inej grinned then, slow and cat-like so that he was both warmed by the sight and slightly terrified. “You said you missed me Kaz.”

He couldn’t help it, he spluttered, “I-I what?”

She sat up so that they were close once more and smiled at him again, radiant and backlit with golden light so that she looked like some ethereal goddess come to torture him or save him. He couldn’t decide which it was.

“You said you missed me,” she leaned in conspiratorially as if to whisper some great secret, “and I think you might have meant it.”

When she leaned back Kaz couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his face, enjoying the way her dark eyes widened at the sight of it. Before he could come up with a witty retort to divert attention away from just how much he’d missed her, however, Inej spoke more firmly. “And I suppose you have a perfectly good reason for refusing to see Jes and Wylan? Or getting so drunk I find you collapsed at your desk?”

Kaz winced, the last few months had been a blur of bills and whiskey. He rarely stayed sober for more than a day, but even with a drink or two he could still work, the alcohol was just to keep distracting thoughts at bay. Distracting thoughts about Inej at bay.

Yet here she was in his bed, lecturing him like the good old days, and where was he? Grinning like an idiot at the sight of her, arms crossed and braid loose against her back frowning at him. “Kaz!”

He snapped out of it, pretending he had not just been distracted by the way her hair glowed different shades of brown in the sun. “I was trying to forget.”

Her arms dropped to her side and Inej sighed, “How many times are we going to talk about this Kaz, there’s nothing wrong with thinking about things that make you happy.” 

He knew what she was implying, and she was right, nothing made him happier than thoughts of her. Her smile, her hair, her laugh. But he frowned all the same, no reason to let Inej know that such thoughts had him wishing he could sail away with her and leave Ketterdam behind. Those wild day dreams had become an almost daily occurrence and it was starting to scare him, his seventeen year old self had once thought that Ketterdam needed him as much as he needed the unforgiving city. 

But now? With the Dregs putting more and more indenture hoarding establishments like the Menagerie out of business and offering those on the streets opportunities for good work, he found himself yearning for something other than the long weeks of paperwork and intimidation tactics. Dirtyhands felt like a figurehead long forgotten and Kaz finally wanted something he could have. Frankly it terrified him.

“Do you ever think about what makes you happy at sea Wraith?”

It was a stupid question, a doubt he shouldn’t have let himself voice, but it was early and she was finally here with him, making him soft. She took a while to answer, and he kept his eyes fixed on the rumpled sheets that stretched between them until she answered. “I try not to,” she breathed out the next words in a frustrated huff, “thoughts of you are distracting.”

Kaz Brekker would be lying if that particular admission didn’t make his shriveled up heart beat out of his chest. Leave it to Inej to be completely honest. He felt a warm hand trailing up his arm then, and tracked its progress from his wrist to the Dregs tattoo. Even her hands enthralled him, so delicate, and yet he’d seen her use them to grip daggers and slit throats. 

And because he was a sick son of a bitch, that was the thought that had desire coursing through him. Before she could say anything else he let that desire spur him on, making the first move for once as his hand slid up her shoulder to cup her neck. The sensation of her skin against his was smooth and warm, nothing like the repulsive cold and wet he’d come to fear for so long. 

In fact he relished the tremor he felt run through her as his fingers caressed her jaw, they both knew it was unusual for him to initiate anything this intimate, so he appreciated the way she relaxed into his touch. Letting him know she was alright, that this was alright. 

“Do I make you happy Inej?”

His other hand went to the base of her braid, slipping it from the hair tie and watching as she closed her eyes, the dark waves fanning out around her shoulders in a way that convinced Kaz once more that Inej Ghafa was magic. She opened her eyes when his hand fit to the curve of her waist, her shirt riding up slightly as she spoke, her voice breathless, “You could.”

His hands stopped. He felt himself approaching the edge of the cliff again, the abyss waiting for him below full of possibilities and terrifying unknown variables. But also… Inej. He watched as the woman in front of him waited with eyes closed probably expecting, predicting, that now was when he left her. Pulled his gloves back on and turned away from her, from a future away from the Dregs.

Inej deserved better. He could try and be better, for her. 

Kaz let his hands drop to the bed, watching as she let out a breath, never disappointed, always waiting for him. Before Inej could open her eyes he kissed her. Hard.

Her mouth responded to his instantly, her arms held tightly at her side until his hand came to cup her jaw, and she twined both around his neck. Their foreheads were touching now and Kaz was aware of every place they touched, the heat from her skin and the slide of her tongue against his, consuming any anxiety like a flame. It had been too long since she’d touched him like this and when her fingers curled themselves in his hair he groaned into her mouth, no one drew that sound from him. No one but her. 

When they broke apart her hands didn’t leave his neck and he didn’t pull his forehead away from hers. Her eyes kept him steady, if the world was a stormy sea Inej’s eyes were land. 

“I leave in a fortnight.” 

Kaz startled slightly, pulling back to take in her closed off expression. He knew she was already preparing to leave him, readying herself. It made him sick with longing, the longing to be with her always. So much so that he blurted, “Can I come with you?”

Now it was Inej’s turn to startle, those pretty black lashes framing her wide eyes as she looked at him. He was rooted to their spot on the bed, hands resting on her elbows as his thoughts grew panicked. 

The sea is where she belongs. What do I offer that she doesn’t already have? Why would she want me there?

“You- you’re serious?”

He felt the darkness threatening, lapping at him like an encroaching tide, “It was a stupid question I-”

Inej laughed, the bright and beautiful sound that haunted his dreams erupted from her and she threw herself on top of him. Kaz was so surprised he fell backwards onto the bed, eyes wide as he stared at her on top of him, her smile lighting up his dark room. “It was not a stupid question. I’ve been waiting months for you to ask.”

His shock must have shown clearly on his face because she only laughed again. Kaz thought quite suddenly that he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Oh, ok then.”

The words came out shaky but he knew Inej heard the small smile in them, her lips brushing his neck and trailing up to his jaw as he lay beneath her. He felt the rising heat of her skin as his hands came to rest on her waist, his eyes tracking her lips until she hovered directly above him. When he brought his mouth to hers Kaz thought quite suddenly that if there was one person he would be happy to touch for the rest of his life, it would be Inej Ghafa. 

~*~

Kaz woke to the rocking of the warship, it’s creaks and groans a familiar song that gently prodded him awake every morning. He wasn’t surprised to roll over and find himself alone in the captain’s cabin, Inej woke with the sun. Running a hand through mussed hair he pulled himself out of bed, pulling his boots and gloves on before stepping out onto the sun soaked deck. It had caused quite the bout of gossip when Captain Inej Ghafa brought back a friend to join the Wraith’s crew, and a male friend at that. Then there was trying to hide the fact that Kaz, despite having a hammock to himself below deck, spent just about every night on board in Inej’s arms.

Thankfully no one in Inej’s crew of rescued slaves and refugees was very judgemental of this fact, as far as they were concerned the first mate had told him, what the captain did in her free time was none of their business. But that didn’t stop Kaz from turning an embarrassing shade of pink when the crew called him “the captain’s Ketterdam man”.

He took in the sight of the calm sea and was relieved to spot Inej alone by the rail, the rest of the crew still below deck. The former gang boss took a moment to admire the way her braid danced behind her, her face tilted upward towards the sun as the ship sailed ahead. It still took his breath away, how in her element his wraith was at sea. It warmed Kaz to see her like this, warmed his soul in a way that made him believe he could be happy spending the rest of his life with her like this. Helping where he could, but letting someone else call the shots for once. “I can hear your breathing, being invisible is not your strength.”

He smiles slightly, she’s not wrong. “I was just enjoying the view, Captain.”

Kaz watched Inej shiver slightly at the title, they’d only been at sea a few weeks and she still hadn’t gotten used to him calling her by title, still insisting on Inej. But he loved watching her flush whenever he called her captain, it was so rare to see his stoic treasure perturbed by a simple title, who could really blame him for misusing it? “Are you going to come join me or have you still not found your sea legs Kaz.”

He smiled, how rude. It was true it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to get used to more than a few weeks at sea, but no matter, Inej had always been there. Kaz moved to the rail leaning so that they stood shoulder to shoulder looking out over the sea. He felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude then, at the realization of how happy he’d been these past weeks. “Thank you.”

Inej looked at him, a playful smile on her sunlit face. “For what?”

“For wanting me here.” 

He turned his face to hers and the smile that greeted him was so bright Kaz couldn’t look away.  “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

Wait she was laughing at him now. Kaz narrowed his eyes and nudged her. “What? Why are you laughing?” 

He didn’t want her to stop laughing now that she had started, dark hair blown out of her braid and lashes kissing her cheeks. “Oh nothing you’re just being so honest today, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Inej slid closer until Kaz looped both arms loosely around her waist. She was looking up at him more seriously now, her laughter having drifted away on the breeze. “I’ll always want you here Kaz, with me.”

Tension that he hadn’t noticed seeped from his shoulders at that, a small sigh leaving him when she brought one hand to his face. His voice was shaky when he spoke. “Good. That’s where I want to be.”

Inej smiled, that warm soft smile that made his chest hurt and Kaz couldn’t not lean in and kiss her soundly. 

~*~

Guys this was SO hard to end and I’m still not happy with the ending so please tell me how I did :’) 

Don’t forget to come say hi on ao3 and leave a comment or reblog this post! ~ Love Liles

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 14)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description:  20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to  any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has  heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they  find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt  began.  

A/N: wait i forgot i left you all on a cliffhanger akjfhjf. Here’s an update (finally) im a bitch blocked about where the next chapter is going so it might take...about as long as this one took to be uploaded. Its gonna have some smut tho. This chapter has new characters and PLEASE appreciate my fucking bubble conversation, i wanted to use the whole “she came down in a bubble dawg!” convo but i didnt

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

There are certain experiences you’ve lived through enough times to consider yourself a pro at handling. Situations like being handcuffed to a bed. Like being left on an island with no food or water. Like having to fight your way out of a bar when someone is getting too rough with the other patrons.

Drowning is quickly becoming a situation with which you are getting too closely acquainted.

When the ocean swallowed your little dinghy, your life flashed before your very eyes. This was truly the end. The last thing you would ever live through would be the song of Atlantis tickling your ears, the sight of Junmyeon glowing blue, and the feeling of Baekhyun’s skin beneath your palm.

All in all it wasn’t the worst way to go, but there was still so much more that you wanted to experience.

You’d never gotten a chance to return home, to sit at that cliff where you sent off your mother’s body and tell her about all of the things you’d done with your life. To describe to her the ship you’d bought, the friends you’d made, the adventures you’d gone on and the memories you’d made. You wanted to go find Victoria again and thank her for taking you in.

You wanted to find that boy that saved your life when you were but a child and to thank him properly. You wanted to tell him all that you’d done and repay him for giving you that chance at life. You wonder if he’s grown up into a handsome man now. If he has a spouse and kids and a happy home on that island you once called home that you left as soon as you could. You wonder if he’d even remember you.

You’d never gotten a chance to get the Storm Chaser those new upgrades that you’d been saving up for. An extension to the crew cabins, sturdier masts, a new set of sails.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to fall in love, to have your heartbroken, to have a baby or even hold one for that matter. Would you have made a good mother? Would you have made a decent wife? Would you have been able to find someone willing to spend the rest of their life with you, on the seas, on land, wherever your hearts could make a home?

Would you have tried to make a home with Baekhyun?

The feeling of being sucked down into the depths of the ocean doesn’t get any less terrifying the second time that you go through it.

As a matter of fact, having it happen again is more terrifying than the first time. Maybe it’s because you can actually feel the pressure of the water crushing your chest. You can feel the way you’re being sucked farther down and the way the water rushes into your nose from the shock of being suddenly dragged under.

It’s nothing like the storm, nothing like fighting the waves and catching the flashes of light as you fought to climb to the surface. Of being tossed around and dropping and rising hundreds of feet seconds at a time. At least then you had a purpose. You aren’t trying to save a life this time. You aren’t able to fight the invisible force dragging you farther and farther down into the water. The water around you is calm, the movement of your body whizzing through the water feels scarily misplaced.

Magical. Unnatural.

Then it all finally stops.

The force pulls you into a pocket of air and gravity takes you by force. Your body collapses on solid ground, and you can breathe. You gasp frantically for air and cough violently as you attempt to catch your breath and your bearings.

You sit up and position yourself on shaky hands and knees as you heave on the dark basalt beneath your splayed fingers.

It takes a few moments of panicked breathing to realize –you’re alive.

You’re alive.

You realize that you’re alive and then you regain enough brain power to panic over if Junmyeon and Baekhyun are also alive. You hear dramatic coughing and hurling to your left and when you investigate you find Baekhyun on his ass with his head between his knees as his spits out salt water.

He looks like a miserable wet dog. You would laugh if you weren’t sure that you look the same.

But where is Junmyeon?

You look left and right, in front of you and behind you but you see no trace of him. No sign of him in the underwater cave you’ve somehow found yourself.

“How did we even get in here?” you spit more salt water on the ground and look for your area of entry. Down. It felt like you fell down. So maybe there is something above.

A gasp gets caught in your throat at the sight above you. Open water somehow suspended above. If you weren’t nearly positive that you somehow fell from there, you would think there was some extremely strong glass blocking the water from falling through the hole above. You can see the glow of deep sea fish swimming by and you’re hit with just how far below the surface you are.

Dizziness pounds through your skull and you hurl out more water all over your hands.

Disgusting.

“Are you guys alright?”

You lift your head at the sound of Junmyeon’s voice and feel your remaining strength seeping from your bones. He looks between you and Baekhyun’s pathetic forms with distressed eyes.

Baekhyun looks up from between his legs with an incredulous open-mouthed frown. He looks your first mate from his toes to his head. “How the hell are you dry?”

It’s then that you notice he looks remarkably put together. As if he never even experienced the sensation of being pulled straight towards hell through water. The patterns on his skin have dulled down to a pale blue, but they are still there as clear as day.

“An Atlantian thing,” Junmyeon answers with a shrug and a smile. He reaches out a hand to help you to your feet but you wave him away with a shake of your head.

“No, give me a second. I just- I need,” you point to the hole above, “This is just-” you close your eyes and wave him away weakly. “Fuck, I need some time.”

He laughs lightly and chooses to help Baekhyun up while you gather your wits. This is overwhelming. “Did you just materialize down here what the fuck?”

“No, I came down in a bubble.”

“A…bubble.”

“Yeah you know one of those things filled with air-”

“You couldn’t lend us one of those bubbles?!”

“I didn’t know how. I don’t even know how I got it around me. Must be an Atlantian-”

“If you say ‘Atlantian thing’ one more time I will, and I swear to Poseidon, strangle you with my bare hands right here.”

“…Atlantian thing,” Junmyeon finishes cheekily. Baekhyun groans loudly and you can hear the weak thumps of him trying to smack your first mate and being deflected.

You struggle onto your feet as Junmyeon and Baekhyun argue. Typical back and forth between the two of them, you know Baekhyun is all talk when it comes to most people; he won’t hurt Junmyeon.

Letting your eyes fully wander the cave, you take in the shiny crystals in the rock around you and the way everything glows a tranquil light blue.

You hear the thundering footsteps before you see the people coming charging towards you out of the alcove hidden from your view.

“INTRUDERS, DROP TO THE GROUND NOW!”

“We just got up,” Baekhyun whines at your side. You lower your still shaking body back down to your knees and hold your hands up in the air to show your willingness to cooperate. In the corner of your eye you catch Junmyeon landing a swift kick to the back of Baekhyun’s legs with his good leg and sending him to the ground with a painful crash.

You flinch at the noise and the people in matching outfits in front of you hold out their swords, ready to strike at any moment. Once Junmyeon has lowered himself to his knees, the group of people break apart to make way for who you assume must be the leader. If the aura of dominance and the extra sparking pink embellishments on their otherwise plain white uniform is anything to go by.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The man asks gruffly. He’s tall, handsome, big eyes rimmed in dark black kohl. His analyzing brown eyes drag from you, to Baekhyun, and finally land on Junmyeon. You catch the exact moment that recognition crosses his face.

His eyes widen and he blinks rapidly in disbelief, the sword in his hand clatters to the ground and resounds through the cave. “S-Suho? Prince Suho is that you?”

You turn to look at Junmyeon who has locked eyes with the leader with a look of confusion on his face.

“Do they know each other?” Baekhyun whispers to you.

“Shut up,” you hiss.

Junmyeon gasps and climbs to his feet. “Minho? Minho! I can’t believe it,” he says elatedly. The two of them run (Junmyeon more hobbling than running with the shitty cast still on his leg) into each other’s arms to embrace and you watch with a kind of fond sadness as they grip one another as if the other will vanish into thin air.

The other guards slowly lower their swords and break out into disbelieving whispers. Baekhyun grabs your left hand and lowers it to your lap. “I think you can lower your hands now prisoner. I don’t think they’re going to kill us yet.”

“It’s as if nothing in this world is enough to keep you from annoying the absolute hell out of me,” you grumble.

He beams, a wide and happy smile. “It’s my charm.”

You snort out a laugh while he stands up on both feet and holds out a hand for you to take to get up. You slap your hand in his and let him heft you to your feet.

Junmyeon calls out your name and you whip in his direction in alarm. He drags over the leader of the guard with a hand on his bicep and matching grins on their faces. “I want you to meet my childhood friend Minho!” He looks up at Minho with eyes beaming with happiness. “We grew up together, and Minho here is the Captain of the entire Atlantian military.”

Minho looks down at the ground bashfully.

“It is an honor to meet you. Junmyeon says that he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I, as well as all of our people owe you our highest form of gratitude,” Minho says with a deep bow.

You blink at the gesture, stupefied into immobility. Junmyeon gives you a pointed look and a subtle bow of his own to hint that you should bow back. You quickly bend at the waist and rise up. “It’s- Uhm, thank you. It wasn’t just me though, there are lots of people to thank for his return up on the surface,” you say with a nervous smile.

Minho laughs. “I’m sure. You can all amaze us with tales of your time above at breakfast in a few hours. I’m sure you would all like a moment to settle and…” he looks at Baekhyun and your soaked clothing. “…clean yourselves up.”

The two of you frown indignantly.

As if you planned on showing up soaking wet.

Minho whistles loudly and a smaller man comes scrambling out of the group of guards. “Hendery, show our two outsiders where they can rest. I will take the prince directly to the Queen.”

The smaller man nods vigorously. “Yes sir. I would like to have Xiaojun assist me, if I can.”

“Take who you need,” Minho gives you both another once over before leaning down to whisper, “Make sure there is plenty of soap in their bathrooms.”

You squawk in embarrassment. Junmyeon offers an apologetic smile before coming to place both of his hands on your shoulders and lowering his voice to talk to you and Baekhyun as privately as he can. “Just follow them and relax. I will come find you once I am finished talking to the Queen. They won’t do anything to hurt either of you.” He squeezes your shoulder. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You nod in affirmation. Baekhyun grunts at your side.

Hendery and another young guard lead you away and out of the cave. You are only allowed one final look over your shoulder before Junmyeon vanishes from your sight.

The bleakness of the cave gives way to a wide low hallway covered from top to bottom in blue crystals, or maybe it’s glass.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you murmur to the man at your side. Neither of the guards bother to turn around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m trying to take it all in. This is insane I never thought I would ever actually see this place,” Baekhyun whispers back. You’re shocked by the genuine way he explains himself. “Why? Do you already miss the sound of my voice? I can keep talking if you want.”

“I’ll pass. I already miss the silence.”

His giggle resonates against the walls. You bite down on your lip to keep from smiling in return.

Your group reaches the end of the tunnel and the guards suddenly stop. Hendery turns around first. “Because we are unable to trust you we will have to transport you while keeping our city and location a secret.”

“Huh?”

“I think we’re going to get blindfolded,” Baekhyun whispers to you.

The other guard reaches into his coat and produces two pieces of cloth while Hendery slams a fist on the wall. A hole opens up where seamless wall once stood. You watch dumbly as the other guard, Xiao…Xiao something sits in the human-sized hole and then lies on his back before disappearing through a tube.

What the fuck is this place?

You’re blindfolded first and led to the hole. “Sit.” So you do. What kind of transport requires you to sit in a hole blind? You’ve lived a couple of years now and that's long enough to know that this doesn’t feel quite safe.

Before you can argue your way out of it, you’re pushed and then careening through space. With your eyes covered and the jolt of bewilderment at sliding too fast to be humanly possible you don’t have any choice but to let out a scream.

You’re on your feet again before you know it –albeit dizzy and shaking. The blindfold is removed and you’re met with the impassive face of the guard. You look around yourself to figure out what in the deep sea hell you just slid through.

“You might want to get out right about now,” he suggests.

You hear the telltale sound of Baekhyun’s yelling and cursing getting closer by the second, so you hobble out of the exit compartment and watch in wonder as the top of the compartment opens up and air blasts from the bottom to decrease the force of gravity as Baekhyun drops to his feet.

He’s shaking like a log and his wet hair and clothes are even more disheveled than they were before.

Maybe it’s the overload of being exposed to all the new technology and scenery, but you can’t stop yourself from loudly laughing at his appearance.

Xiaoxi…Xiaode…Xiaojun, that sounds right-

Xiaojun walks forward with a smile twitching on his lips to remove the blindfold from the once one-eyed troublemaker. But, Baekhyun has his eyes squeezed closed, refusing to open them. You take it upon yourself to physically pull him out of his spot.

“It’s over, you’re on solid ground now,” you tease. He peaks open one eye and it darts around distrustfully before he opens them both and leans forward with his hands on his knees to let out a dramatic exhale of breath. Another humored giggle escapes you. “You look like shit and the way you screamed-.”

He stands up straight with reddened cheeks. “Never speak of it,” he threatens in a low voice. You roll your eyes and lift a hand to fix his messy hair. You hear the hiss of air from the tube, knowing that Hendery will be arriving soon, but you busy yourself with smoothing down the unruly strands.

The red darkens on his face as you rake your fingers through the hair at his fringe. You aren’t sure what compels you to initiate the act, but he doesn’t stop you so selfishly you continue to take what you can. Satisfied with your work you smile shyly and turn away to hide your face and the heat you can feel creeping up your neck.

A cough snaps you back into attention.

Right, the guards.

Hendery has a creepily knowing smirk on his face while Xiaojun covers his mouth with his hand, but you can see mirth shining in his eyes.

Baekhyun clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. “So…where are we supposed to rest exactly? Or are we supposed to wander around and find it ourselves?”

Hendery motions to the right. “Down this hallway.” He nudges Xiaojun and they both walk forward. You resist the urge to smash your head into the wall as you follow behind. Into one of the…beautiful smooth white walls. For the first time you take in the interior of the building where you have ended up.

High ceilings and pillars. Enormous windows that go from ceiling to floor to show an expansive view of what awaits outside.

You’ve had plenty of time to image what Atlantis would look like, but seeing it in front of you now, bathed in a light like that of early dawn, with the reflection of water moving over the architecture…it’s too unreal, too magical to put into words.

“Keep up. You’ll be able to see the city after breakfast with the Queen,” Xiaojun advises. Both you and Baekhyun pick your pace back up after having fallen behind trying to take in all that around you.

Attempting to keep your gawking to a minimum you keep your eyes ahead and try to quickly take in as much as you can.

“We’re here,” Hendery says. You almost tumble into his side when he suddenly stops; and Baekhyun trips over his own feet at your side. “These will be your rooms. There will be drinking water and a bathroom for you to clean up. We have already notified the castle staff of your arrival and there will be clothes delivered to you for you to change into for the meal.

“Breakfast will be served in 3 hours. One of the castle butlers will come for you to show you to the dining area at that time. Until then we advise you entertain yourself inside of the room.” The door is opened and a grand suite awaits you. Your mouth drops at the extravagance of it.

A large bed rests at the very center of the room, draped in iridescent white curtains that look as creamy as milk. The floor is covered in cold white marble and speckled with shells and pearls embedded into it. A large couch is perched near the entrance, a lit fire in front of it keeping the room comfortably warm. A book shelf stretches across a third of the room only stopping at a golden archway that you assume leads into the bathroom. The room is decorated in soft golds, creamy whites and pale blues. You catch little accents of pink in the wall paint and on the couch pillows.

The dome-like shape of the room makes you feel like you’re in a bubble.

“What is with you guys and bubbles?” You grumble to yourself.

Xiaojun shrugs. “It’s an Atlantian thing,” he says simply.

You close your eyes in frustration while Baekhyun grumbles at your side.

“So whose room is this?” Baekhyun asks once he’s done cursing Atlantis and its obsession with bubbles. Hendery and Xiaojun share a look and you catch the sneakiness on their expressions.

Hendery is the one who decides to answer, cheerily as if he isn’t intentionally planning to ruin your time here in Atlantis. “Both of yours.”

“I’m sorry what did you just say?”

“This room is for the both of you.” Hendery casts Baekhyun a wide smile. “You’ll have to share because…uhm..”

“Because we’re low on rooms,” Xiaojun chimes in.

“Yes! Low on rooms,” Hendery agrees quickly, conspicuously. You narrow your eyes. “You see we have a lot of guests recently because of a…” he looks to Xiaojun for help.

“For a uh, for a wedding!”

“Who is getting married?” Baekhyun asks, just to catch them in their lie.

“One of the princes! Ah we must be returning to our Captain now. Rest well!” Hendery says quickly before he and Xiaojun rush away with their hands over their mouths, giggling like school children. You’re adults, you can share a room. You won’t let the giggling of the younger boys worsen the pounding in your chest.

You exhale and shake your head. “Come on.” You enter the room first and immediately feel relaxed by the colors, the roundedness, and general softness of everything around you.

The fire feels like it’s calling your name so you wander over to warm yourself up by its flames. Your wet clothes are beginning to feel bothersome again now that the excitement of being in Atlantis and being alive have begun to fade.

The sound of something sopping wet hitting the ground heavily pulls your attention from the flickering flames. When you turn around you don’t expect to see your roommate getting ass naked…

But alas that is what your eyes land on. His shoes and shirt are already in a wet pile by his feet.

“Baekhyun,” you admonish. He stops with his pants halfway down his legs. You look at his soft naked dick only momentarily before you raise your eyes back to his anticipatory face. “Really?”

“I’m cold and wet. I need a shower do you want me to get sick?”

“You couldn’t even wait to go change in the bathroom?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he responds before shucking the last of his clothing and standing in the middle of the room proudly.

In all his naked glory.

You can’t help but feel a bit put off by the fact that he doesn’t have any issue getting naked around you. He’s not even hard. It’s like your presence doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

Bitterly you wonder if you’d been Jongin would he have a different reaction in this situation. You stand up abruptly. Fuck Baekhyun.

Pettily you strip out of your clothes as you walk towards the bathroom, leaving the wet articles in your wake. “I’m cleaning myself first,” you state coldly as you all but rip the last of your clothing off at the archway of the bathroom.

You don’t turn around and you don’t bother to investigate why he seems stunned to his spot or why he averts his eyes as you walk by.

~~~

The bathroom is just as opulent as the main room. A creamy white with pretty pale pinks streaked through the marble and coloring the crystals that illuminate the room in a soft pinkish glow.

A tub the size of a small pool is carved into the corner of the room. Oils and scented salts in jars cover the expansive shelf built into the wall at its side. A wide mirror stretches across the room with a spout and basin to wash your hands in front of it. A varied range of brushes and facial oils and paints are neatly organized across the counter, settled in front of a thick patterned chaise. You find candles nestled snuggly beneath a shelf of towels and unused sponges on ropes.

Looking at your appearance in the mirror, your hold in the need to physically recoil. You skin looks blanched from the overexposure to water, and the hair on your head is knotted beyond belief. Not wanting to look at your naked form for too long you twist the knob at the tub to release a steady flow of lukewarm water. You toss in some oil that smells good and a soap that catches your attention. The bottle is make of glass and has writing that you can’t read as it must be in Atlantian, but it smells and looks good and bubbles up when it comes in contact with the running water.

Grabbing a comb from the counter of goodies and the specialized hair soap left at the side of the tub, you decide to make an event out of pulling your appearance back together. You will be meeting the Queen in a few hours.

Gingerly, you lower yourself into the water and shove your head under the spout before lathering it in hair soap and detangling the strands on your hand. Rinsing out the suds and then turning off the water, you allow yourself to be semi submerged in the water.

“Yah, you can’t steal the bath and then spend an hour using it. I could have been in and out already.” You crane your neck to find Baekhyun’s complaining form leaning against the archway.

“You weren’t fast enough. Not my problem. You can wait.”

“No I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. I’m not fucking moving.”

In the month you have spent time more intimately with Baekhyun aboard your ship as a fellow crewman, you’ve learned one thing about him that you didn’t know before. He can be astoundingly petty.

His intelligence, his wit, his strength and skill as a pirate, his ability to charm and talk his way out of anything –you knew of it all before. But this petty level of childishness is new.

That being said, you aren’t surprised to find him padding over and then climbing into the large tub across from you. He settles and then his bottom lip juts out.

“Happy now?”

“No.”

You snort loudly and his pout breaks off into something like a smile. You push a handful of water in his direction, not enough to do much and not with enough strength to even be called a splash.

The little shithead he is takes your push of water as permission to send a small tidal wave in your direction, splashing you directly in your face.

You splutter and wipe the water from your eyes while he laughs his loudest most punctuated laugh at your expense. When you squint at him through the water still in your eyes you see pure relaxed happiness in his features, and you can’t find it in you to even attempt to be mad.

This Baekhyun is the real one. The one he covers up with cocky smiles and biting words. The one he leaves locked away and protected from the heartlessness that is required of your jobs.

Happy Baekhyun is a vulnerable Baekhyun. A soft version of him that makes your heart hammer in your chest and sparks a juvenile desire to keep him at your side safe from anyone who dares try and take that side of him away.

His laughing calms to muffled chuckles hidden behind his hand. “Okay, now I’m happy.”

“That makes one of us,” you scoff out. The water begins to agitate your eyes so you run the water from the spout to flush out the fragrance laced liquid. Blindly you reach out for the stream only to continuously miss.

“Come here,” you hear at your side. “Here, lean back.” You’re moved to the side and you lean backwards only to come in contact with his chest. You tense before giving in and letting yourself relax against him. You feel his muscles shifting as he reaches around you to cup water and pour it over your eyes. You blink away the water and scrunch up your face in discomfort. “I’m not done, try and keep your eyes open this time,” he says gently.

You reach up and hold open each eyelid as he cups the water and lets it flush out the soap. Finally you can blink without agitation. You contemplate thanking him, but decide to do it once you’re safely on your side of the bath. As you’re making your escape, arms wrap around you and pull you back securely down between strong thighs and against a warm chest.

“Can you…uh can you let me go?”

“Nuh uh,” he grunts with a head shake.

You look down at where his arms are crossed over your chest and swallow thickly. He perches his chin on your shoulder and takes in a deep relaxed breath. You feel stiff as a board. “This is nice,” he sighs out.

This is too intimate. This is too intimate. This is too intimate.

“How long have you been in love with Jongin, Baekhyun?” you ask in a rush of breath. His grip on you loosens to nothing and you pull yourself away from him, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the hardening of your nipples. From the cold of the air and the all too close embrace you’d found yourself enjoying just a tad too much.

He splutters. “I- wh-” he starts to cough violently. You feel your heart sinking with each noise he makes. “I don’t- I’m not in love with Jongin!”

You let your silence and your frown portray your disbelief.

“I’m serious. I’m not in love with Jongin he’s like my younger brother, what would make you think that?!” He fake gags. “Oh gross, just the thought-” he covers his mouth to fake gag again.

You gawk at him. Is he overcompensating to hide the truth?

“What in Poseidon’s name would lead you to believe that I’m in love with Jongin? I nearly raised the kid.”

You feel embarrassment creeping up your neck like snakes. “You- the…Minseok said…”

“Minseok said I was in love with Jongin?!”

“No! Wait let me-” you smack a hand to your forehead. “Minseok said that you took the compass with you when you came to find the three of us and I guess I just I don’t fucking know assumed you had to want to find your crew most in the world and then I figured you were actually in love with one of them and Jongin seemed like the most likely of him and Chanyeol because Chanyeol doesn’t really seem like your type but I guess it could also be him since he’s kind of goofy and airhead at times too-”

His hands come out of the water to cup your cheeks and then –lips.  

“Stop talking,” he says softly. Another quick press of his lips against yours. “You’re wrong and you’re stupid and you need to stop thinking before you overload your dumb little brain.”

“Hey-”

“Ah ah. What did I say?”

You purse your lips and let him squish your cheeks closer together until your lips are puckered ridiculously. The look in his eyes is fond almost, the smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes soft as he squishes and unsquishes your face.

You bat away his hands. “You still didn’t answer my question,” you whine despite yourself.

“Aw the baby getting upset?” he makes a face of exaggeratedly fake concern. “Come here, sit on daddy’s lap and I’ll make you feel all better.”

“Baek that was gross.”

“The invitation still stands.” He waggles his eyebrows and shimmies his shoulders. When his gaze drops down to your uncovered chest and a bit of the playfulness gets swallowed up by want, you feel a bit of that desire rushing through your veins again.

He isn’t in love with Jongin?

That only leaves more unanswered questions, but you let them go easily at the sight of Baekhyun reclining lazily against the side of the tub, rubbing up and down his thighs slowly and watching you with predatory closeness.

He is so sexy, you are so fucked.

Squashing the tiny feeling of shame, you crawl over and wrap yourself around him. You can feel him rising in excitement from beneath you. You let your arms rest lazily around his shoulders while he busies his hands with massaging circles on your hips.

“That feels nice,” you whisper in a puff of breath. You know that he can see how affected you are –can feel it in your impatient squirms against him as you attempt to subtly relieve the ache growing inside of you. He hums in agreement and focuses his eyes on your mouth.

You can take a hint when it’s staring you in the face like this. You lean forward and connect your lips softly. A peck. Another one. A kiss on the corner of his mouth. A kiss on the tip of his nose. Another on his smiling lips.

When you pull back there’s emotion swimming in his irises that sparks a heat in your core. You nip at his bottom lip.

A lick, a nibble, a juvenile laugh against pressed lips.

He sticks his tongue out through pursed lips, waiting for you to try and kiss him with his ridiculous expression. You pull away to grimace, only to laugh and lick a messy wet stripe from his upper lip to the tip of his nose.

“You’re a dick,” he laughs, wiping your saliva off his nose.

“And you’re a bastard,” you respond easily. You look at your deeply pruning skin with disdain. “We should dry off.”

“But I like it here in the tub; I haven’t even scrubbed the dirt off.”

“We can clean ourselves properly after I get your cock inside me.” You feel him twitch from beneath you. You cock your head to the side teasingly. “Oh, now you’re ready to get out?”

He scrambles from under you and over the edge of the tub right to the towels. You roll your eyes playfully and climb out just as he plops a towel on your head and quickly tries to dry your hair, only messing it up further.

“Hurry up. We’ll get sick if we stay like this for too long. We need to go to the bed and warm up, I can already feel a cold coming on.”

[sadaboutniall]

Without Fear

masterlist | tag | wattpad

hiya! since tomorrow is thanksgiving I thought it would be better for everyone if I posted this week’s chapter today! hope you like!

Chapter Two. February 

give me moonlight, and a smile from you that I can // that I can barely believe — dancing under red skies, dermot kennedy

It comes on slow, the way waves lap up against the shore late at night, when there aren’t many boats out to disrupt them. Over and over, bit by bit, it settles in. The first wave of it bites at Lu’s ankles when her toilet overflows at 6am, leaving her standing in her socks in the bathroom, soaking wet, worrying about the water leaking into the shop below, while Ruairí meows in concern from his spot atop the sink. Frantic, Lu calls her dad, and it goes to voicemail twice before she remembers it’s 1am in New York. 

Accompanied only by a YouTube tutorial and the rising sun, Lu manages to fix the mess, shower, and start the day all on her own. Her dad calls back five hours later, and Lu feels like she’s lived a whole lifetime between then and now. 

The second wave of it has more venom. She sleeps in on a Sunday—the only day the shop is closed—stirring around 10 because Ruairí is relentless, screeching in her ear, kneading at her belly, desperate for something to eat. Mindless, she feeds him, freshens up his water, makes herself a cup of coffee, pulls out a pastry leftover from Siobhan’s bake the day before, and settles into a spot by the window of her flat, overlooking the sea, all before thinking to take a look at her phone. 

Even if she goes 12 hours without looking at her phone, Lu finds she doesn’t miss much these days—she left home on a whim, without a ton of fanfare, and knows full well that she isn’t putting in the effort she should to keep in touch with friends from home. She also knows that’s why she left.

So, most mornings, she wakes up to a few messages in the family group chat, a message or two from her best friend Georgia, and not much else. This morning, it’s different. 

208 texts. 12 missed calls. 

Lu’s stomach sinks like a stone. Her whole body heats up at once. Her hands start shaking and her heart starts hammering, all before she even manages to swipe open a single notification. 

She doesn’t even have the wherewithal to cycle through possibilities. Her brain, hitting overdrive from the start, has no question that it’s bad. 

In WhatsApp, Lu finds that her family group chat has 206 messages. She has one separate text from her dad, and a final separate text from her brother. Nothing from her mom. 

Shaking, she swipes open her dad’s first. On the counter, Ruairí is sniffing at a banana. 

Hi, love, his message says. Figured the number of messages in the group chat is overwhelming. We’re at the hospital with Sam now. All is well, the appendix is out and he’s resting. Mary’s with us, she got back from Honduras yesterday. Good timing. Give us a call when you get a chance. 

From her brother, Lu finds a selfie. He’s in a hospital bed, gown around his shoulders. He looks pale, dark circles around his eyes, but he’s okay—he’s smiling, giving the camera a thumbs up. Underneath, the message says I lived, bitch. 

Relief coursing through her, Lu lets out a shaky laugh. It’s scarily on-brand for Sam to pull out a meme at a moment like this. 

Slowly but surely, Lu’s heartbeat slows to its normal rate. As it does, she scrolls back through the messages from the night before: her brother raising the alarm that he had a pesky pain in his side, their mother, a doctor herself, urging him to get it checked out. There’s a moment where Sam says the doctor is sending him home, and another where their mom urges him to demand an ultrasound, just in case. He does, and they find the appendicitis. Lu shudders to think what would’ve happened had her mother been the one sleeping soundlessly an ocean away. 

It’s five am in New York. Lu figures they’re all shattered. Rather than call and risk waking everyone up after what was surely a late, long night, Lu shoots off a text to her dad, asking him to call her when they wake up and sending lots of love. She turns her ringer up all the way so she won’t miss anything else. She feels a million miles away. 

####

On February first, Lu wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s still dark outside, but that doesn’t mean much in a place where the sun doesn’t rise until nearly 9am. Still, Lu doesn’t even need to look at a clock to know it must be early: perched on the pillow next to her head, Ruairí is snoring gently, dead to the world, not yet ready to demand breakfast. 

Heart hammering, Lu gropes around the bed until her hand closes around her phone, cold. She squints, then sighs, as she checks the time.

4:45am. 

Lu is no stranger to waking up mid-panic attack. Sometimes, it feels like choking—like she can’t get a breath down deep enough, to pool in the bottom of her lungs. Other times, it feels like an unavoidable urge to get up, move, get as far away from the space she woke up in as physically possible. Right now, it feels like a stomach ache, period pains, itchy skin, her body trying to tell her that something, somewhere, is going terribly wrong. 

Logically, she knows it’s not. She holds her breath, five, four, three, two, one, and checks her phone as her heart jackrabbits away. Nothing out of the ordinary: her mom texted a picture of her glass of wine with dinner to the family group chat, her dad reported the score of a soccer game, her brother sent that he’d managed to run a full two miles today, his furthest since the appendectomy. Everything is fine. 

Except for Lu. 

There’s no use trying to go back to sleep; Lu knows herself better than that. Heart still working overtime despite reassurance, she slips out of bed as gently as she can, praying that she won’t wake Ruairí. She’s silent as she gets dressed and silent as she tiptoes out of her bedroom, out of the apartment, and down the stairs. The morning is still and dark, but you can hear for miles and miles on Inis Mór, and as she begins her walk the soft, familiar sounds of tractors roaring to life, cows mooing for their breakfast, sheep and goats bleating, remind Lu that she’s not the only one—that others are here too, alive, beginning their day, pushing on. Home. And underneath it all, there is, always, the sound of the waves, constant, crashing against the shore. 

####

Lu doesn’t get a chance to nap. She walks, balancing on the edge of the cliffs that overlook the Atlantic, breathing in the sea air and thinking about how the water here, crashing, violent against the cliffs below her is the same water that once lapped up on the shores of Long Island, of Coney Island, of the Rockaways, of home. Seagulls swoop, low and graceful, over her head, over the ocean, and Lu thinks that if she asked her dad to drop a floatie into the Atlantic for her it just might make it—just might wash up here, on the edge of the Earth, the way she has. 

She walks and walks—you can walk all the way around Inis Mór and back in under five hours, but she doesn’t have that kind of time. She walks along the cliffs, the white, blinding, otherworldly geology of the Burren, through the grass and the mud and the cow shit, until she’s back at the cafe, windows glowing golden against the rising sun, condensation clinging to them from the inside. Siobhan is pulling pastries out of the oven when she opens the door around 6:30, and Ruairí, curled up on the counter, looks at her, bitter. 

Siobhan smiles, “There you are. No worries, pet, I’ve fed him his breakfast.” 

She wobbles through the day, exhausted from the panic, the walk, the lack of sleep. She messes up at least two orders—gives Mrs. Duffy whole milk instead of skim, drops Mr. Kennedy’s sandwich on the floor while she’s bringing it over to him—but, as always, no one bats an eye. They touch her arm gently, lull “oh, it’s no bother, darling, we’ll make it right, now,” and the cadence of their laughter carries as she does exactly that. There’s no venom, no rush, nothing to give Lu the adrenaline she so badly needs to make it through the day. 

Somehow, she almost forgets that it’s Niall’s first day. But all of a sudden it’s twelve hours later and he’s bustling inside, bringing a rush of cold air with him. The door swings shut behind him and Lu, who had been curled up at the cushioned window seat with Ruairí on top of her in a moment of quiet, jumps. The cat’s only just forgiven her for this morning, and her movement causes him to stalk off in anger. She sighs after him.

“Oh, no,” Niall laughs a little, “sorry, did I interrupt something?” He looks soft and sweet in his dark jeans, his hat pulled low over his forehead. He’s shedding his puffer jacket to reveal a navy blue cable knit sweater and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His eyes, bright and blue as Lu remembers them, find hers. He smiles. 

“Yeah,” Lu just about manages. “He just forgave me, you totally ruined it.”

Niall barks out a laugh, head thrown back, shoulders hunching up. “What did you do?” 

“Forgot to feed him breakfast this morning,” Lu sighs. “Siobhan did it, but he held it against me anyway.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall shrugs. “I’d be mad too, if I were a cat.” 

“S’a good thing you’re not, then,” Lu smiles. “I’m not here to feed you.” 

Niall’s still giggling. Lu wonders if he ever stops. 

“I’m thinking I might make him pupcakes or something as an apology…” Lu is rambling a bit now, but she’s so tired, and Niall’s so cute, and nothing is real here, anyway. “I know they’re for dogs but I can’t imagine they’re bad for cats? I bet he’ll like those—honestly, I bet he’ll just like knowing I slaved over a hot stove for him. It’s like he can tell, you know?” 

It wasn’t meant to be that funny, but Niall is fully cackling, crinkles by his eyes on full display, one hand clutching his tummy. “You’re funny,” he says between laughs. “A bit looney, me da would say—hey, Lu, looney, Looney Tunes. It all makes sense.” 

“Isn’t ‘looney’ offensive?” The banter with him comes so easily, Lu doesn’t let herself overthink it. “Think we’re supposed to stop using it.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall’s pulling his guitar out to tune, now, “You’re in Ireland now, love. All good nicknames are a little offensive.”

####

The night is mostly quiet, a dozen customers at the most, which Lu thinks is probably good for Niall’s nerves. He’s just as stunning as he was the night Lu first met him, pulling out an arsenal of covers ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Post Malone, somehow making them all work for his voice, for the vibe, for everyone, but he’s shaking—she can see it when he pushes his hair off his forehead, or when he drops his pick on the floor between songs, laughing awkwardly as he bends to grab it. Even with the mistakes, the dropped pick, the few stumbles over lyrics, he’s endearing, engaging, all-consuming. Lu’s meant to be working, but she can’t find it in her to look away.

From her spot at the counter, Lu watches how Niall keeps his eyes trained on the window across from him. He doesn’t seem to be looking for anyone or anything, but Lu suspects it’s easier than looking his audience in the eye—despite the fact that she can see for herself just how captivated they are. It shouldn’t take an hour and a half to drink one coffee and eat one slice of chocolate cake, but that’s how long old Mr. Kane spends in the shop anyway, eyes closed, listening to Niall play. 

For two full hours, Niall keeps the shop warm and alive. Everyone is so captivated that Lu barely has to work after all; she leans up against the counter instead, cradling the mug of hot chocolate that Siobhan made her before she left for the night, and taking him in. She barely knows him, and yet. 

Lu has seen plenty of nervous first-timers performing in front of apathetic crowds—it was practically her job, after all. She’s also seen more than her fair share of world class performers stunning crowds that want to eat them up, keep them on stage forever, bottle their energy and carry it through the rest of their lives. Working in the music industry, even just as an assistant, for five years turned her hard and jaded, made her feel like she’s seen the seedy, rough, rude underbelly of it all—but she’s never seen anyone perform like Niall before. His unadulterated, all consuming love for music is tangible, even from across the room. This is now Niall communicates. This is how he understands the world. This is how he sees life. Half of Lu feels lucky to hear it—the other half feels sick knowing that his talent is wasted here.

It almost makes her sad to have to close up at 9. Niall’s good about it—he’s designed his set to last exactly two hours, finds a climax in the middle with “Dancing in the Dark” and tapers his song choices toward a slow but steady ending, letting everyone know, without having to say it, that it’s time to head home. Lu doesn’t even have to ask him if he knows how to play “Closing Time.” 

Mr. Kane is the last to leave, sticking around a little after nine to shake Niall’s hand and tell him he had no idea how talented Maura’s son is. He talks about Maura—Lu assumes she must be Niall’s mom—while Lu slowly, quietly begins putting dishes away. She likes the routine of this already, Niall’s quiet voice, his booming laugh, his warm presence keeping her company while she settles down for the night. It’s something she could get used to. It’s something, the first thing, she thinks she could miss, if she left. 

Niall masterfully leads his conversation with Mr. Kane toward goodbyes, shaking his hand again as he shuts the door behind him. Lu looks up from where she was rinsing a cup to watch as Niall watches through the window to make sure Mr. Kane gets in his car. He waits for the car to start before turning around, leaning his back up against the door, dragging a hand through his hair, and letting out a long sigh. 

“Alright?” Lu asks, gentle. Niall’s got his eyes closed, his head back, neck exposed to her. It’s thick and littered with freckles, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. In her chest, Lu’s heart does something funny. She presses her thighs together, tight. 

Niall opens his eyes halfway, exhaling a little laugh as he meets Lu’s gaze. She hopes he can’t tell—how could he? 

“Yeah,” he says then, standing all the way up and shaking his head. “That was mad.” 

“It was amazing,” Lu counters. She gently places the mug back into the sink, bracing her hands against the edge. Part of her is afraid of what she’ll do without something between him and her. “They were so into it. No one could look away from you.”

Her cheeks flush, and Niall catches it. The corner of his mouth pulls up in half a smile as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ya think so?” 

“I know so,” Lu presses her lips together, but it doesn’t do much to prevent her smile. “‘Dancing In The Dark’ was my favorite one; it’s perfect for your voice.” 

“Thanks, Looney Tunes,” Niall hums, making his way back over toward her. “Can I help ya clean up? I wash, you dry?”

“Oh,” Lu stills. She’d half forgotten about the dishes still left to clean, the floor to sweep, the leftovers to toss, the counters to wipe down. Her mind stumbles over the best way to go about this: it would be rude to keep him, but, God, she wants his company. She realizes, with a slight swoop in her belly, that she hasn’t felt homesick in two hours. She needs him to stay. “I actually—I have a dishwasher. I just like to rinse everything before I put it in.” 

Niall smiles. He comes around the counter to stand next to Lu at the sink, knocking his hip against hers. “Sensible,” he says. It’s quiet. Just for her. “I’ll rinse and put ‘em in. You’ve been stood here all night. What else do you have to do?” 

“Uh,” Lu feels like her whole body is vibrating. Her mind turns over itself like an engine that won’t start. “Sweep the floors, wipe down the counters, lock up.” 

“Alright,” Niall is so close that Lu can smell his aftershave. Warm, soft, mixed with sweat from his nerves and the smell of his skin. “Let’s do it.”

####

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